Double Take
by Glamorous Gamine
Summary: After Apocalypse's defeat, most seek only a peaceful life with loved ones, but fear and paranoia allow tyrants to rise. Generation Evolution must resist and sow the seeds of Revolution. Nadia and Hector, two outsiders, end up actors in the pivotal year of June 2002 to June 2003. Main Pairings: Lancitty, Romy, Jonda. Thanks to Hurricane1714 for editing!
1. Settle Down (Jun 26)

Green. That was all she saw around her, dark green blades letting soft beams of orange light through. She blinked and got up, wincing at the pain in her skull and the ache in her limbs. She had been lying underneath a large maple tree at the edge of a forest near a great, dark house. Where was she? How did she get here?

Who was she?

She looked over what she was wearing: A gray denim wrap jacket over a white T-shirt, fingerless gloves made of beige leather, blue jeans, and slip-on shoes. Tied around her neck were two pendants; one was a slender silver cylinder, the other one an indigo glass circle. Holding the latter in the palm of her hand, the glass almost seemed to glow.

The silver pendant had a small black dot in the middle and one of the circular sides was a button. The girl pressed it and a holographic screen projected from the middle, displaying a photograph of a brunette, brown-eyed girl that she recognized as herself. Below the photo were a few words.

_Scout: Biological manipulation_

Scout. "So that's my name," said the girl.

Glancing around to make sure there were no witnesses, the girl hid behind the tree and slipped off her clothes to check for anything else that could identify her. She had no luck with her pants, shoes, or underwear, but inside her jacket was a pair of what she recognized as wooden fighting sticks. "122112" was etched into each of them. As she slipped her clothes back on, she noticed a baseball in the grass and decided to keep it.

A gust rushed by and chilled her, and Scout saw that sunset was soon and that she was without a place to sleep. Seeing no other options, she ran out of the forest and to the front door of the dark house.

Scout rang the doorbell. Nobody answered. She tried knocking as loudly as she could. Nothing. The front door was locked. She had to get inside away from the cold. She dashed around the house. None of the windows on the first floor were open, but a few on the second were. If only there were a way to get up there.

No sooner had the thought passed through Scout's mind that a spike of bone burst out of her right palm. She yelled at the pain but was not frightened by it as a familiar sensation ran through her hand and up her arm. "So this is what I can do with my mutation." She flexed the muscles in her palm and concentrated on the spike, encouraging the bone cells to divide and grow until a grappling hook was formed in her hand. Aiming her right palm at the open window, she pushed the hook out of her, followed by a thin rope of cartilage. She had not used enough force to get it to the window, but after a few throws, Scout managed to get the hook onto the window ledge and retracted the cartilage rope back into herself to get her up there.

Scout stumbled through the window into a deep purple bedroom. The dark and expensive-looking furniture had feminine embellishments and likely belonged to a woman. Scout considered it for a moment and then shook her head. It would be rude to sleep in someone else's bed. Better to find a couch so that she could explain herself as soon as possible when the residents got home.

She made her way down the stairs and into a living room, kicking a few pizza boxes out of the way. The couch was old, musty, and the cushions were missing, but it was a place to sleep inside away from the elements. For now, this will do, thought Scout as she lay down to rest.

* * *

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Stop that," a feminine voice said in the darkness. "Don't attract attention, remember?"

The teenage boy stopped kicking the wall. "It's been hours, Renée!" he seethed. "How long does Ace plan on making us wait?"

"Hector, keep your voice down." A brunette girl stepped out of the shadows and Hector grimaced. It was always a bit unnerving to see the pale, pretty right half of Renée's followed by the other half scarred by burns.

"Shouldn't you take off your sunglasses?" he asked. "It's getting dark out." A car rushed by the alley entrance and the bright lights made Hector flinch for a moment

Renée chuckled and shook her head. "I don't want to risk being exposed. Besides, I'm used to seeing in the dark."

Hector snorted. "Please. With that corset and face, you're probably going to get a lot of attention anyway." He was answered with a whack on the head.

"You're one to talk," Renée hissed, brandishing a bo staff at him. "Snow white hair just screams straight and narrow, not to mention your-"

"Hey! Contacts!" Hector said, pointing to his eyes. "Try some yourself."

"I leave you two alone for just a little while and this happens," a third voice joined the conversation as a pale young man with black hair and icy blue eyes that glowed in the darkness stepped into the alley.

"Ace! Where've you been?" Hector demanded

Ace sighed and waved a stack of twenty-dollar bills in Hector's face. He then lifted his other hand to show a bunch of stuffed plastic bags. "Grocery shopping." Hector dove for the food only to run smack into the wall as Ace stepped out of the way. "I also found a place for us to sleep for the night in a hostel."

"Safe?" Renée asked.

"Clean and well built," Ace answered. "If anything happens, I'll protect you two."

"Any signs of Nadia?" Hector asked.

Ace shook his head in response. "We'll visit the X-Men tomorrow," he said as he led the other two out. "If anyone knows where to find her or help us, it'll be them."

Hector glanced around to see if anyone was following them. "Think Forge'll be with them?" he asked. "We'd get home sooner."

"We'll see," was Ace's only reply.

* * *

Scout was woken from her nap by the sound of a car engine. As she turned her head towards the noise, she could pick up bits of conversation.

"We should do this more often," a deep, bullish voice spoke.

_Burglars?_

"Man, Freddy," said a nasally guy. "I thought that guy was gonna piss himself."

"Given how much we spent tonight," a bored girl drawled, "you'd think he'd be grateful."

"Guys, guys," said a young man with authority. "It's just McDonald's."

"Best meal in weeks!" said the nasally one.

When she heard the lock rattle and the door creak open, Scout closed her eyes and braced herself. "Well, considering how much this cost us," said who she guessed to be their leader, "we can do this once a week, tops."

"Since when are you so responsible?" It was a new voice, reedy but still masculine.

"I'm in charge here."

"Uh, hello? Whose father sends us the money?"

"Listen, Pietro, I don't-"

"You guys!" The girl whispered.

_I've been caught._ There were indecipherable murmurs and Scout could feel their footsteps as they walked into the living room and surrounded the couch. She was warned by a warm presence before a hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, so she was able to stop herself from flinching. Scout yawned, then opened her eyes to find an angry pair of brown eyes staring at her.

"Who are you?" he said.

Knowing this was going to happen did not make it any easier as Scout gulped and felt her palms become sweaty as she struggled to find the words. "I- My name is Scout," she croaked.

The young brunette man leaned back a bit but kept a firm grip on her shoulders, "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," Scout blurted out. "I just woke up outside this house and I can't remember anything. I just- it was getting dark and cold out and I just needed a place to sleep."

"How do you know your own name?"

His grip tightened a bit when Scout's hands moved, but she grasped her silver pendant and pressed the button. He started a bit when the screen came up, but otherwise kept calm.

"Biological manipulation?" he asked. "You're a mutant?" Scout nodded. "Where'd the necklace come from?"

"I don't know!" said Scout in frustration. "I just woke up in those woods over there with amnesia or whatever. The only clues I have to my identity are this necklace and these Eskrima sticks." She sat up and the young man removed his hand from her shoulder as she took off her jacket and showed him the sticks.

The raven-haired girl in red spoke up. "So you don't remember your past, but you know about martial arts?"

Scout could not suppress a childish giggle. "Come to think of it," she said, "I also have five hundred digits of pi memorized."

A sickly-looking boy spoke up with the nasally voice, "How can we be sure you're not Mystique in disguise?" A fly buzzed by and a long, green tongue sprang out of his mouth to catch it.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Scout, a grin spreading across her face. "You can do that?"

"Not Mystique," laughed the large boy with a blond Mohawk in that bullish voice. "You're all right, kid."

"So, since I have nowhere else," Scout asked, looking the leader in the eye, "can I stay here?"

The leader sighed and took off his black fingerless gloves. "Can your powers heal this?" he asked, pointing to a gash across his palm.

Scout took his hand and, concentrating on the wound, ran a finger across it. The bloody stripe quickly gave way to new skin, and the young man sucked in a breath at what was presumably the sting. Within seconds, it was over, and there was no scar on his palm to be found. He looked over at Scout's work, nodding in approval. "All right," he said. "You can stay."

"So, what are your names?"

"I'm Lance," said the leader. "These are Fred, Todd (but we call him Toad), Wanda, and Pietro." He introduced the others and pointed to them one by one

"Shouldn't I get a say in whether she stays or not?" Pietro protested. "I mean, won't this affect Dad's money?"

"First, leave the money to me," said Lance. "Second, having a medic around means less money spent at CVS."

Wanda nodded in agreement while Toad entertained Scout by flicking his tongue at more flies buzzing around. Lance gestured for Scout to follow him as he led her upstairs. "You can stay in this one." He opened the door to a sparsely decorated bedroom that also served as a storage area, judging by the mountain of boxes.

Scout nodded. "Thank you, Lance."

Lance grunted and went back downstairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Scout shut the door and made a running leap for the bed. She kicked off her shoes and socks and sank down into the mattress, curling and stretching, marveling at how comfortable and clean it was compared to the ground and to the couch. Within minutes, she fell asleep.

* * *

Hector tossed and turned in the bunk bed at the hostel Ace had taken them to. The guy in charge had raised his eyebrows when told that the two guys and one girl would be sharing one room, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Now though, Hector almost wished he had a room of his own so he could punch at the walls without disturbing anyone.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see Nadia running from the group. No. She was running away from him, and striking him for good measure, confirming his doubts and worst nightmares. Still, did she have to go and do that? Were it not for her, he would be home right now. They would all be.

The light snoring from the bed above him told him that Renée was asleep. Ace had gone out again, and when he returned, he would likely have another stack of bills. Letting out a deep sigh, Hector reached over into his bag and pulled out a circular metal plate with a sphere in the middle. With the push of a button, the sphere turned and a screen lit up.

_364:15:11:32.16_

Hector stared at the countdown clock until his eyelids felt heavy. He turned off the disk and placed it back in his bag and struck the mattress, his mind blank and his head heavy against the pillow.


	2. Settle In (Jun 27)

Hector woke the next morning to the light streaming in the window. He sat up and groaned. "What time is it?"

"9:36," said Ace. "What time did you sleep?"

"Before you came back." Hector swung his legs out of bed and bumped his head as the rest of him got out as well. Something flew threw the air and he caught the foil-wrapped package before it could bean him in the head. "Breakfast?" he asked, unwrapping it.

Ace nodded. Renée entered the room, wiping her face with a towel. "Ah, you're awake now," she said upon seeing Hector.

"Sorry I'm not dead yet," Hector replied. Renée's only response was to roll her eyes.

"Well, I've already eaten and washed up," she told him, "so now we're all just waiting for you."

"I feel so special."

"Just eat your damn burrito." Renée rolled up the sleeves of her jacket to reveal a cuff with a silver communication device embedded in it. She punched a phone number into the holographic screen that popped up, but the call refused to connect. "Damn it. Her end is still not connected."

There was nothing else to do but listen to Renée and eat his damn burrito, so Hector wolfed down his breakfast, got cleaned up with the toiletries Ace had bought last night, and popped in his contacts. "What color are my eyes right now?" he asked Renée.

"Brown."

"Let's go then."

As soon as the three stepped outside the hostel, they ran into a group of people handing out flyers. "Vote Kelly for Bayville Mayor!" one shouted through a microphone. Any attempts at evading this group were futile, as Hector accidentally made eye contact with one of them and soon was being handed a clipboard by an eager-looking middle-aged man. "Hello there, are you registered to vote?"

"Not eighteen," Renée and Hector replied in all honesty.

"What about you, young man?"

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't live here," said Ace with a shrug.

"Do you have any friends or family that live in Bayville?"

Hector desperately wanted to tell the man to mind his own business, but just as he opened his mouth Renée elbowed him in the ribs. Ace answered, "Yes. In fact, we were on our way to visit them right now."

"Well, uh, hang on now," the man fumbled a bit with his messenger bag and clipboard. "Mind telling them to register to vote and to vote for Kelly come this November?" He handed Ace the registration forms and some pamphlets.

"I will, thank you very much for your time and information," said Ace with a smile. "I hope the rest of your day goes well, sir."

"You're welcome. My pleasure!"

As they made their way to the subway, Ace flipped through the pamphlet. Renée glanced over and asked, "So is what we were taught true?"

"He's not exactly the demon they made him out to be," Ace said. "He's mostly concerned with the safety of baselines against the 'mutant menace.'"

Hector let out a "Tch" as they passed through the gates and waited for the next subway to come through. "Sounds like the demon I was taught."

"Kelly's a saint compared to Stryker though," Renée said. "At least Kelly's reasons for mutant registration were practical."

"You talkin' about that Edward Kelly?"

The three turned to see a man dressed in a mechanic's uniform. "Yes," Ace answered. "You want a pamphlet?"

"Already have tons of those," said the mechanic. "What do you think of him?"

"While I understand his concerns," Renée responded. "I don't appreciate his language."

The man's voice became a bit too hostile for their liking. "You a mutant, miss?"

Renée whipped her head around and glared as much as she could behind her sunglasses. Hector shuddered as the air dropped a few degrees. "And so what if I am?" she seethed.

The mechanic sputtered a bit before the subway pulled in. Ace, Renée, and Hector stepped on while the mechanic got on another car. As he scrambled out of sight, Hector let out a whistle and smirked. "Smooooth. Really."

"Shut up."

* * *

"Will you guys shut up?" shouted Lance. Scout and Fred steadied their plates and glasses as the dining table shook.

"Could you pass me the syrup, Fred?" Scout asked. Fred slid the syrup over. "Thanks."

"C'mon Lance," Toad whined, springing around the room. "Help me get the remote from Pietro. Then you can go back to sweet-talking Kitty-Kat."

Lance groaned and massaged his temple with his free hand. "Hello, Kitty?" he said into the phone. "Yeah I'm still here. Sorry about that. Hang on, let me go somewhere quieter." He dashed up the stairs and locked himself in his bedroom.

As Toad kept trying to swipe the remote from Pietro's hands, Scout asked, "Who's Kitty?"

"Lance's girlfriend," Fred said with a snicker.

"What's so funny?"

"Eh, it's just that she's an X-man and a goody-goody," Fred explained between mouthfuls of waffles.

Pietro rushed by, tossing the remote up and down. "You're one to talk, Freddy," he said with a smirk. "Remember Jean?"

"Shut up!" Fred took a swing at Pietro that was easily dodged by the speedster. The momentary distraction allowed for Toad to snag the remote with a swipe of the tongue.

"Gah!" Pietro shouted. "Give it back! Maury's gonna be on in a few."

"Too bad! CSI is on, and I'm not missing this episode!"

The argument continued as Scout finished her breakfast, and they resorted to fisticuffs by the time she began brushing her teeth. The rhythm of their shouting and punching allowed Scout to time out the required two minutes. As she exited the bathroom, Lance walked out of his room holding a pair of keys in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Scout asked.

"Construction work," Lance replied.

"Do you pass by a library on the way?" Scout said. "I'd like to use a computer and see if I can find anything about myself."

Lance quirked an eyebrow at her and nodded after a beat. Scout ran into her room to pull on her jacket and followed Lance outside. As he untied the chain tethering his Jeep to the house, she asked, "Theft a problem around here?"

"Heh. Sort of," Lance said. "Old boarder loved to take this baby out for joyrides. Now it's just habit." He opened the passenger door for Scout and she hopped in. As they drove, Lance apparently decided to do his own investigation. "So how's your amnesia work exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you didn't remember anything," Lance explained, "but you know about martial arts, or this Eskrima thing at least, and you know about libraries and computers."

Scout chewed her bottom lip as she tried to find the words for it. "It's like… I know all these things," she said, "but I can't remember who taught me these things. I can't remember any family or anything. It's like I'm a book that has no author or copyright information or references. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah," Lance said reassuringly. In a more humorous tone, he asked, "Can you really recite five hundred digits of pi?"

"Three point 1415926535897932384626433832 7950288419716939937510582097 4944 5923078164…" Scout continued and showed no signs of stopping, grinning all the while.

Lance laughed. "All right, I get it, you can stop now."

They arrived at the library. "Here's my library card, so you can use the computers," said Lance. "I'll pick you up around one for lunch. Got that?"

Scout nodded and took the card. Lance waited until she was in the library building before driving away. Once inside, she made a beeline for the computers and logged on. "All right Google," she whispered. "Let's see if you're any help."

* * *

"Hello, I'm Ororo Munroe. How may I help you?" a voice said through the speaker at the front gate.

"Hello Ms. Munroe," said Ace. "I'm Ace, and I'm with two friends, Hector and Renée. We're mutants, and we'd like to talk to your Professor Charles Xavier."

"Why do you need to talk to him?"

Hector began to shout, "Just let us- OW!" Renée quickly shut him up by putting him in a headlock.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Munroe," Ace apologized. "Hector's a bit impatient. We've recently been… displaced from our homes, and in the current anti-mutant environment, it's been difficult to find a safe place to stay long-term. We would like to stay in the Xavier Institute."

Hector's eyes widened at Ace's words and he began thrashing against Renée's arms.

"Very well," replied Ororo. "I will meet you in the foyer and lead you to his office." The speaker clicked off and the gates opened, after which Renée released Hector.

"Geez," Hector groaned, rubbing his neck. "I nearly passed out there."

"Just please don't say anything that'll get us in trouble," said Renée, almost begging.

Hector let out a snort but decided to keep silent. His throat tightened at the sight of the Xavier Institute. The place reminded him too much of his punishment back home. He dug his hands into his pockets and tried to think of something more pleasant, blinking to make sure his contacts were in place.

Thankfully Hector didn't need to do this for long; he looked up to see that he had arrived at the foot of a large staircase, where Ace was talking to a woman with long white hair and deep blue eyes.

"This way," Ms. Munroe said, grandly sweeping her hand towards a hallway. Hector rolled his eyes at the theatrics but followed her along with the other two. She led them through a dark, spacious living room towards a pair of double doors.

"Come in, Ororo," a male voice said from the other side. Hector caught Renée's eyes and they both acknowledged the other's shocked expression before both resuming their poker faces. Ms. Munroe opened the door and they all stepped inside.

"You must be Renée, Ace, and Hector," said Professor Xavier, leaning over his desk and nodding to each of them. "I'm Professor Xavier." He held out his hand and Ace shook it. "What brings you to the Institute?"

Ace cleared his throat and repeated what he had told Ms. Munroe at the gate. "We would be perfectly happy to earn our stay through housework or rent," Ace added, placing a hand in his right pocket.

Xavier held up his hand. "That won't be necessary," he said. "I'm sure Hank will be pleased to know that you're willing to do chores. If I may ask, how did you three become homeless?"

Hector flinched and glanced at Renée, whose head was bowed. Xavier's eyes darted their way and Hector felt something try to get inside his mind. Xavier's eyes narrowed a bit when he met with Hector's mental barriers and could not break through them, a fact for which Hector allowed himself a feeling of relief.

Renée decided to break the ice. "Please, we don't wish to talk about that yet. When we're ready, we'll tell you."

Xavier's brow furrowed. "What of your family?"

Hector venomously spat, "None on this earth that we can go to for help, that's for sure!"

Xavier's eyes widened a bit before he sighed. "If you give me your surnames, I'm sure there's someone…"

"I appreciate your concern, but it won't help," Ace interrupted. "I'm sorry."

"Give them time, Charles," Ms. Munroe said. "The loss of a home is not something that can be discussed easily."

"However, if you can, we do need your help in finding a friend of ours," Renée explained. "I understand that you have a device that can locate mutants." Xavier nodded. "We were separated from her when we lost our home, and we've had no luck in finding her. All we know is that she's somewhere around Bayville."

"Her name?"

"Nadia," said Ace.

"Or Scout," added Hector. "Nickname," he explained at Xavier's questioning look.

"I'll do my best," said Xavier. "In the meantime, I welcome you three to the Xavier Institute." He shook hands with each of them and then turned to Ms. Munroe. "Ororo, would you mind showing them to their rooms and showing them around?"

"I don't mind at all, Charles," Ms. Munroe replied. "If you'll follow me…"

_So damn polite and regal._ Hector thought. As he walked through the double doors, he brushed shoulders with stout, gruff-looking Logan. The man gave him an irritated look that Hector returned with a glare.

"You wanted to see me, Chuck?" Logan said as the doors closed.

Hector wished he could stay and eavesdrop, but Renée dragged him away from the door as Ms. Munroe's tour began.


	3. Hire and Sneak (Jun 27)

Scout could feel her eyes beginning to glaze over as she clicked through the online profiles of missing children. None of the preteen girls with brown hair and brown eyes looked like her. _Does nobody miss me or even know I'm gone?_ The gloomy thought reminded her of Pietro's words about money the night before. _I won't be a freeloader._ Scout left the missing children database for a site full of job listings. Her age disqualified her from all but odd jobs, and her status as a mutant disqualified her from all of those except one.

"Housecleaner wanted at Xavier Institute to clean bedrooms, dining area, and lounge areas. $13/hour. Must be comfortable with mutants." Below the small description was the address and phone number.

A few more searches later and the Xavier Institute became more familiar to Scout. Apparently, it was a school and safe haven for mutants, and in the past year it had come under controversy over the X-Men, a proclaimed mutant superhero group trained at the Institute. Scout was disheartened to know that the people she was staying with were classified by the news as the Brotherhood, a mutant terrorist cell. Small wonder they teased Lance if he was dating an X-Man. _Still, money is money, and they have been kind to me._ Scout scrawled the phone number and address on a piece of paper and resolved to call them once she got back to the boarding house and when the other Brotherhood members were distracted.

The clock on the computer screen told her it was almost one o'clock, so Scout ended her Internet session and sat outside the library waiting for Lance.

* * *

"… and that concludes our tour," Ms. Munroe said, stopping back near the front door. "Do you have any questions?"

Renée raised a hand and asked, "So will Logan be talking to us about Danger Room sessions?"

Hector bit his lip to keep from grinning at the prospect. Sure, to stay here he would have to do his fair share of housework, but at least here, he would get to fight.

Ms. Munroe chuckled and responded, "He usually pops up when you least expect to talk to you. I suggest you keep on your guard."

"He's not going to stalk us and watch us as we sleep to find our weaknesses, is he?" Renée asked with a laugh.

"Shoot," a gruff voice sounded. "That was supposed to be a surprise."

The three turned to see Logan stomping towards them. "You'll be training with the New Mutants tomorrow morning at eight," he said. "I'm sure Ororo showed you how to get there. If you're late, I'll find you, and you'll be joining me for extra training to make up for what you missed."

"Great," drawled Hector, earning him a glare from Logan.

Ace said, "We understand. We'll be there." Logan grunted and went outside.

Ms. Munroe smiled. "If there's anything you need," she said to the three young adults, "don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Well, I'll be heading to Bayville Library," said Ace. "I'll be back in time for dinner."

"Do you know your way?" Ms. Munroe asked.

Ace nodded and left.

Renée chirped, "Thank you for showing us around. I'll be in the lounge." As she left in that direction, she hissed in Hector's ear, "Try to make a good impression this time."

With that, Hector was left alone with Ms. Munroe. He saw her smile seemed to become a bit forced. "You seem a bit agitated, Hector. Is there anything that's making you uncomfortable?"

Before Hector could answer, Mr. McCoy bound into the room. "Ororo!" he shouted. "I was in the lab when Charles told me you were showing some new students who actually want to do chores around the place. Where are they?"

"Oh! You're a bit late. One of them, Ace, just left for Bayville Library-"

"Ah, a scholar," the blue man beamed. "I like him already."

"Renée is in the lounge," Ms. Munroe continued, "and right here is Hector. Hector, this is Henry 'Hank' McCoy. He's our brilliant scientist."

Mr. McCoy chuckled and held out his hand. "And babysitter. I sure hope I can count on you three to clean your rooms, at least."

Hector shook Mr. McCoy's hand and allowed himself to enjoy the kind company. "Don't worry," he said. "Renée's obsessive about being organized."

"Even so," Mr. McCoy continued, "I've decided that since the students are going to be here a lot more often now that school's out, this place could use some extra help."

Ms. Munroe blinked and smiled. "You actually took my suggestion?"

Mr. McCoy sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. Nobody's responded to it after a week, though. Not surprised, really."

"What's going on?" asked Hector.

"I put out an online ad for a housecleaner," explained Mr. McCoy. "Not to take care of the whole place, of course, just someone to make sure nothing spawns in dark corners of bedrooms and to spiff up the dining and lounge areas."

Ms. Munroe sighed. "It seems anti-mutant paranoia still runs high," she said, "if nobody has responded yet."

With a tired sag in his shoulders, Mr. McCoy sighed. "Oh well. What's three more busybodies to look after?" His disposition became a bit more positive. "Now Hector, would you mind introducing me to your friend Renée?"

Hector shrugged. "Don't see why not."

* * *

"Excuse me."

Scout looked up to see a pale young man with black hair and blue eyes addressing her. "May I help you?"

The man's eyes narrowed at her and suddenly the collar of Scout's T-shirt felt rather tight. "Why are you out here alone?"

Scout gulped and strained to not sound nervous. "I-I don't think my guardian would approve of me talking to strangers," she said in a brisk tempo. Well, she tried.

His eyes widened, and then his brows furrowed before he explained, "I'm sorry. You look like someone I know. My name is Ace. You are?"

"Sorry Ace, I don't think-"

"Hey!"

Scout breathed a sigh of relief as a familiar Jeep pulled in front of the library and Lance's voice rang out. "Scout, is this guy bothering you?" Lance parked and began to glare daggers at Ace.

Scout sighed. "Well, now you know my name," she said. "I guess that means we're not exactly strangers anymore." She turned to face him. "Well, take a good look at me," she said. "Am I really the person you think I am?" A hopeful smile crept onto and grew on her face. If Ace really were looking for her, perhaps he could help restore her memories.

Ace carefully scrutinized her before shaking his head. "On close inspection, no," he said. "You're not the one I'm looking for. You and her are really similar though. Same name, even." He backed away and bowed slightly. "I apologize for bothering you both," he said, and then quickly spun around and walked into the library.

Disappointment clouded Scout's mind as she got into the Jeep and focused her eyes on the ketchup stain next to her right knee. _I thought I had a lead. I should not have been so hostile to him. Shoot! What if I was the girl he was looking for but then my mannerisms made him decide that he's better off without-_

"You okay, Scout?"

"Huh?" Scout turned towards the driver's seat. Lance's eyes were on the road, but a pensive frown was on his face. "Just a bit disappointed," she answered honestly. "There's nobody looking for me on those missing kids websites, and just when I think I have a lead, turns out he's not looking for me, he's looking for a girl with the same name as me." Scout slumped in shotgun and took incredible interest in the fraying seams of the seat.

"It's amazing how you can express disappointment with that smile on your face," joked Lance. "Do you ever stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Smiling. The only time you weren't was right after I woke you up."

"I don't know," replied Scout. "I guess not. I mean, you guys are great accepting me and all and giving me a place to sleep. Why shouldn't I be happy?" She beamed as Lance grinned and ruffled her hair.

They pulled into a construction site and Scout felt a bit uncomfortable around all the heavy machinery. Lance apparently noticed her discomfort because he took her hand and led her to a trailer. Inside were a few chairs scattered around a television set and a refrigerator in the corner. Lance reached into the fridge and grabbed two wrapped sandwiches, tossing one at Scout. She gave a happy "Thank you" and wolfed down the sandwich.

"How do you like your job?" she asked.

"It's all right," Lance said. "My boss was fine with me being a mutant and all so long as I don't use my powers, but he does make me work alone so that I don't make the other guys uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

Scout bit her lip. "Well, I was thinking about what Pietro said about money-"

"Don't worry about what Pietro thinks," interrupted Lance. "Trust me, we have enough to get by."

"But I don't want to be a freeloader," protested Scout, "and I'm not comfortable with you guys just getting by. What if something drastic happens? You certainly don't seem content just getting by on whatever money Pietro's dad was sending you."

"You bet I'm not!" Lance yelled, and Scout took a step back. "We were his pawns, and now he thinks he can buy our forgiveness for trying to get us killed?" Lance then pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right. I get what you're saying." Scout's smile widened. "Just don't do anything dangerous, okay?"

"Oh not at all," Scout said. "I just need to interview for a housecleaning job."

"Which house?"

"The only mutant-friendly place for someone like me to work," Scout paused for Lance to swallow the piece of food in his mouth before she continued, "the X-Mansion." She was glad for her decision when Lance started.

"Seriously?!" he said. "Of all places to go begging for money…" Lance trailed off and Scout could observe the gears in his head began turning as his eyes darted back and forth a bit. "No, you know what, that's actually perfect." His mouth spread into a grin and a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.

"Is it because Kitty's there?" Scout said with an equally mischievous smile.

"Heh, guess the others informed you, but yeah," Lance said. "It's hard to arrange dates with her since security's pretty tight there, but if you get to work there and they don't know you're with us, I may just be able to enjoy a dinner and movie for once without a smelly Canuck growling at every corner." Scout raised an eyebrow in question. "You'll know who I'm talking about when you get there."

"So what do you want me to tell them if they ask for my address and phone number and other private information?" wondered Scout.

That gave Lance pause, but he quickly brightened and scrawled something on a piece of paper. "I'll give Magneto one thing; he knows how to maintain privacy," he said. "This is our P.O. Box. Nobody except Brotherhood members and leaders know about it. As for phone number… well, you might be able to get away with just an e-mail address. Just tell them that you're tight on money and phone bill needs to be kept low. If it makes it any easier, it is kind of the truth."

Scout nodded. "I can easily set up an e-mail address back at the library," she said. "Kitty must be someone really special for you to plan something so thoroughly for her."

A genuine smile graced Lance's face at that moment. "Yeah," he murmured. "She's someone special." Lance glanced at the bemused expression on Scout's face and immediately settled back into his non-lovestruck authority mode. "Lunch is almost up. I should get you back to the library."

The two were in a conspiracy together during the drive back as they discussed how she would travel between the X-Mansion and Brotherhood house. Scout was caught up in the fun of being in on a secret, and concerns on the past faded into the back of her mind.


	4. First Impressions (Jun 27 - 28)

Mr. McCoy had easily slipped into nice conversation with Renée. It amused Hector when she asked if the mansion's library contained any fashion magazines or books, and it surprised him when Mr. McCoy had taken it in stride. As Renée talked about needing art for design reference and Mr. McCoy led her to the library, Hector made his way to the Danger Room.

Hector was in too complacent of a mood to be sparring against gigantic robotic arms yet, but there was still some exercise equipment to use. Hector took a deep breath and a dense, smoky substance released from his skin, coating his body an inky black color. Hector stretched and allowed his shadow miasma to whip around him, forming extra arms. The cool, slithering sensation now surrounding his body eased the aches that came from the lumpy hostel mattress, and the release of the shadows relieved him of a great tension. With a jump, he clung his miasma to the walls, allowing him to scale the place like a spider. He relished the freedom of using his mutation after a day and night of having to restrain himself, and once he reached the ceiling he used his arms to swing about.

As Hector was in the middle of a mid-air somersault, he looked down to see Logan staring at him from the observation booth. The fleeting terror that went through Hector nearly made him crash into the wall. Luckily, his miasma cushioned him, but now his fun was soured by the fact that Logan was watching him.

_Some things never do change,_ Hector thought with a grimace, suddenly wanting to fight the robot arms.

The speakers crackled as Logan's voice sounded. "Dinner's in five minutes, kid," he said. "Don't be late." Hector could have sworn there was a smirk in the last part.

_Maybe I can steal his food for some cheap laughs._ He flexed his right hand as his miasma seeped back into his body. As he trudged towards the dining room, Hector shook his head and dismissed the idea. There was no need to be stuck in the medical ward for claw wounds on his first night at the Institute.

Right before he reached the dining room, Renée called him over. A look up revealed that Ace had returned. "What is it?"

"I found her," Ace whispered. "She was at the library."

Hector clenched his fists and willed his miasma to stay beneath his skin. "Well?" he asked.

Ace sighed. "She seems to have retrograde amnesia," he explained. "She didn't want to speak to me because I was a stranger." The last part brought a frown to Ace's face that made Hector snort.

"And you just left her there?" Hector growled.

"No," Ace responded with a roll of his eyes. "Lance Alvers chased me off. Seems she found her way to the Brotherhood."

"Did you tell her anything about us?" Renée asked, eyes shining with concern.

Ace recounted the conversation that had taken place outside of the library.

"Wait a minute," Hector said when he finished, holding up a hand. "She asked you to tell her something. Why didn't you?"

"She seems… happier the way she is right now," Ace said, furrowing his brow. "Her voice is louder, and she acts more her age."

"Will it really be a good idea to keep it from her?" Renée asked. "What will she say to us when her memories return?"

The three of them lapsed into contemplative silence for a moment, before Hector said, "We're her friends, right?" Ignoring the withering look Renée shot him, he continued, "You said yourself that she doesn't have any of her psycho baggage now that she's forgotten about her past. I say let her enjoy it while it lasts."

Ace and Renée looked at Hector and both slowly nodded. "That may be the nicest thing I've heard you say in awhile," Renée said with a cautious smile. "Are you trying to make up for-"

Hector turned away and stomped towards the dining room. "I'm not sorry for anything," he angrily insisted. His skin was taking on a dark color as he felt his miasma seep through, and he gritted his teeth to force it back in before he broke something. _I'm not sorry,_ he repeated to himself, _but I understand if you want to forget, Nadia._

* * *

On the drive back to the boarding house that evening, Lance and Scout made a detour at Wal-Mart. The greeter's smile fell off his face when he saw Lance, and he continued to stare until an entering couple asked if he could move out of the way.

Scout did not quite know what to do as various people pointed and whispered without discretion at Lance, and soon some of them were beginning to make nervous glances at her as well. Scout decided to simply stay as close to Lance as possible, hoping her presence would lend some support.

From what she could see, Lance was used to this treatment. His face remained impassive as he filled his shopping basket with a toothbrush and a towel, only changing to an inquisitive expression when he entered the children's clothing and his eyes scanned over Scout.

After a moment of realization, Scout suggested, "Try medium. It may be a bit baggy, but I'll probably grow into it."

"Hm, and Wanda could probably alter it," Lance agreed. He threw packs of T-shirts, underwear, and socks into the basket and proceeded to the checkout. The cashier was alarmed for a moment when Lance approached her station, but quickly settled into tepid professionalism and checked the items as fast as she could.

"Hey Lance," said Scout as they walked back to the Jeep. "May I see the receipt?"

"Why?"

"I want to know how much I should pay you back after I get my job," she answered.

They both got into the Jeep and Lance threw the plastic bag full of the purchases between them and then laid a hand on Scout's shoulder. "Scout," he said sternly, "you don't need to do that."

"But-"

"Listen," Lance continued, "if your powers can give us basic medical care, that'll be enough payment for now." He turned the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life. Lance spoke again, this time with more steel. "If you plan on running after getting a free meal though, we will find you. There's nothing worse to the Brotherhood than being used."

"No way!" Scout practically shouted. "Why would I leave you guys? You're awesome. Besides, where would I run to?"

Lance let out a snort, followed by a chuckle, and soon Scout was worried that they were going to crash because of how hard Lance was laughing. Thankfully, he kept both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road, and once he calmed down he ruffled Scout's hair. "You're all right Scout, you're all right."

When they arrived back at the boarding house, Fred had prepared some sandwiches for dinner. The rest of the Brotherhood head scattered across the house to watch TV, read, or sketch as they ate, so Lance grabbed his sandwich and told Scout to follow him. As Scout held the plate underneath her chin to hold the crumbs, Lance set his plate down near the foyer closet and began digging through the chaos.

Scout's eyes danced with glee as she saw various sports equipment spilling out of the closet, though Lance's grunts troubled her. "Do you need any help?" she asked.

"No- agh!" Lance answered. "Hang on, here- here we go!" With a yank, Lance flew backwards with what appeared to be a bicycle.

"Whose is this?"

"Dunno. This was here when I got here, and I never saw anyone use it," Lance patted the seat and grinned at Scout. "That just makes it perfect for our plan, if you'll help me fix it up."

Scout grinned back and nodded. She and Lance went outside with their dinners and got to work fixing the bike, pumping the tires full, unkinking and oiling the chain, readjusting the reflectors, until the bike seemed more gently used and Scout could ride in a few circles around the boarding house without something going wrong. Her hands stained with oil, Scout brought the plates to the kitchen sink and went to the bathroom for a shower. Though her mind was buzzing with anticipation for tomorrow's job interview, when her head hit the pillow half an hour later, she instantly fell asleep.

* * *

Dinner more than made up for the news that for Ace's bad news when the three newcomers introduced themselves to the current residents of the mansion, who all gave them their names and given small demonstrations of their powers.

"So, uh what are your mutations?" Bobby asked.

Renée removed her sunglasses, exposing her deep emerald eyes for the others to see. It did not take the others long to see that she had no ordinary pupils. "Before you ask," Renée had said, "I can see perfectly fine." She then turned towards Bobby and made eye contact with him. "Make some ice, please."

Bobby tried, he really did, and Hector struggled to keep his smirk small when nothing happened and Bobby flailed a bit at his inability to use his powers. "What did you do?" he asked Renée.

"I temporarily shut down your powers by altering your nervous system," said Renée with a smile. "Don't worry, it'll come back in a few minutes or so."

Rogue had dropped both her fork and her jaw. "You- you can do that?"

Renée's expression was sympathetic as she answered, "Yes."

All eyes turned on Ace next, and without a word held his water glass and made the liquid boil.

Hector decided that he would use his turn having some cheap thrills. Turning to the poor sap sitting next to him, he said, "You're Sam, right?"

The blonde boy nodded. Grinning, Hector said, "Give me your wallet."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hector could see Scott adjusting his sunglasses and Logan raising his fist. Sam drew his brows together and frowned in confusion. "Why?"

Hector's grin grew feral. "I said," Hector paused for a moment to release some miasma, "GIVE ME YOUR WALLET!" The miasma burst from him with frightening velocity and whipped about as if in the throngs of a fever, giving Hector the appearance of a eldritch creature.

The distinctive "snikt" sound and the prodding of something sharp at his neck told Hector that the joke had run its course. Retracting his miasma back into his body, he glanced down at Sam, who had fallen out of his chair and was currently handing out his wallet in a trembling hand.

"As much as I would like to," said Hector with a small chuckle, "I didn't really mean it. You all right?"

Sam blinked for a moment, nervously mimicking Hector's chuckle, and nodded, getting back into his seat and continuing his dinner.

_You'd think they'd be made of sterner stuff._ Hector turned to face Logan. "Anything else?"

Logan glared at Hector, and in close proximity Hector could smell the tobacco. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you, kid," growled Logan, before retracting his claws and returning to his seat.

As Hector sat back down and continued his meal, Renée drawled, "Smooooth. Really."

"Shut up."

"Really Hector," Renée groaned with exasperation, "could you at least try to get along with everyone?"

Hector shoveled some food into his mouth to avoid having to make empty promises.

That night, as he settled into his new room at the mansion, he pulled out the plate and sphere.

_363:16:51:38.93_

He sighed. As long as he was here, he could use his miasma and practically nobody knew him. _Guess it wouldn't hurt not to fuck things up. I'd hate to have to leave here._ As the thought formed in his mind, Hector had to laugh. To actually want to stay in the mansion…

* * *

_I will get this job. I will get this job. I will get this job._ Scout chanted to herself as she brushed her teeth the next morning. She had changed into one of her new T-shirts and had ruthlessly checked her jeans and jacket for any speck of grime. She rinsed out her mouth and took one last glance in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, her face was clean, and her hair was neat.

Scout got on the bike and strapped the slightly large helmet tightly to her head and rode off with the directions Lance had given her. Her eyes drank in the lush summer greenery that lined the roads on the way, after what seemed an eternity she finally arrived at a high white wall with a sturdy metal gate.

_Deep breath._ Scout pressed the call box next to the gate.

"This is the Xavier Institute. I'm Hank McCoy. How may I help you?"

"Hello Mr. McCoy. My name is Scout, and I'm here to answer that ad for a housecleaner."


	5. Boys and Girls at Work (Jun 28)

"I'm sorry I couldn't call or e-mail to request an interview," Scout said, "but my family's trying to keep bills low and I can only get on the Internet at the library." She was trying her hardest not to shake with nerves, fiddling with her hands behind her back and glancing around the lobby. The grand staircase, deep red carpet, and shiny hardwood floors intimidated her with their richness, and Scout looked for somewhere to rest her eyes comfortably. Mr. McCoy had a kind face to match the voice she had heard through the call box, but his blue gorilla-like form was something of a surprise to her.

Mr. McCoy looked at her with restrained amusement. "That's all right, but I must say," he said, "you look a bit young to be looking for work."

She bit her lip to stop herself from revealing too much. "My…" _Deep breath._ "My family is having some money problems at the moment. We're on a tight budget, I have nothing to do all summer, and I just wish we could have nicer things or meals more often."

"Why inquire about this job? Surely there are entry level jobs available."

Scout hesitated, and then held up her hand to let a small bone spike pierce through her palm. "All other places won't take mutants," she explained.

Mr. McCoy's became more sympathetic. "While I can see that you want to work," he said, "I'm a bit concerned that a young woman like you won't be able to handle all the physical labor you'll be doing."

"Well, if you're worried that I can't handle the job, why not have a trial day?" Scout suggested. "Give me a list of all the things you want done today, and I'll see if I can complete them. I'd like to be paid for any satisfactory work I do today, but if my best isn't good enough, I won't bother you anymore." She clasped her hands behind her back and willed her foot not to tap as she waited for him to respond.

Mr. McCoy blinked and chuckled. "Well, I don't suppose it could hurt," he said. "A trial day it is then. Here's a list of things I'd like for you to do around here." He handed out a piece of paper that Scout glanced at, feeling a bit intimidated by the number of tasks:

_BATHROOMS_  
_Clean mirrors and sinks._  
_Scrub toilet._  
_Get hair off floor and out of drains._  
_If toilet paper is running low, restock from utility closet._  
_Take out trash._

_LOUNGES_  
_Check cushions for trash and crumbs._  
_Put away loose objects and then vacuum the floor._  
_Take out trash._

_DINING AREAS_  
_Clear tables, wash dishes, and load dishwashers._  
_Make sure surfaces are clean and organized_  
_Take out trash._

"Um, do you have a map of the place I could carry around?" Scout asked.

Mr. McCoy was happy to give her one and marked the rooms on the list and utility closets. "The students are eating breakfast right now," he told her. "You can take care of the dining area once they leave for morning exercise at 9. In the meantime, I'd suggest starting on the bathrooms on the second floor. Good luck Scout." He held out his hand and Scout gladly shook it.

"I'll be in the library if you need anything."

"Thank you, sir." As Scout made her way up the stairs, she saw Ace approaching. "You! You live here?"

Ace kept walking down the hallway and simply nodded at her. Though a bit put off by his coldness, Scout asked, "Did you find the girl you were looking for?" At that question, Ace paused and narrowed his eyes at her. Scout could have sworn that she started sweating out of fear. After a beat, he shook his head and continued walking. The air seemed to become breathable again as he left, and Scout quickly turned to scurry towards the utility closet only for her face to nearly run into some guy's torso.

There would have been a collision, but with a spin on her leading foot, Scout managed to avoid him and she continued her way towards the utility closet. She glanced back to see shaggy snow-white hair bound in a low ponytail. "Sorry!" she said. "I wish I could talk to you more but I have to clean the bathrooms."

Hector turned around to see her running from him again. The fact that she wanted to talk to him only confirmed that she had amnesia, unless she had somehow learned to lie in the past few days._ Just how much have you forgotten?_ he wondered.

Scout opened the closet and began to gather the cleaning powders and liquids in a bucket, but to her slight annoyance the scrub brush and paper towels were on a high shelf. As she readied the bones in her palm, a cool, soothing sensation surrounded her. She started as a thick strand of a smoky black substance snaked out from behind her and retrieved the cleaning supplies for her, placing them in her waiting hands.

Scout turned around to see the young man she had almost run into. He was dressed in all black and very handsome, taller than her (but who wasn't?), rather slim, and had kind brown eyes. Most strikingly, the dark shadows were coming out of his jacket sleeves, and some more darkness was creeping up his neck.

She had no idea how her mouth had stretched into an awestruck grin, but when she finally realized it, Scout went red and said, "Oh, sorry for gaping. Thank you for helping me and… Wow. That smoke is beautiful."

Hector felt a bit stricken at her comment, and Scout shrank back when she thought, from the look on his face, that she had insulted him. "Sorry," she murmured, and she sheepishly ducked her head and went to clean the bathroom. As he watched her go away, Hector cursed at himself. Here was an opportunity to restore things to the way they should be, and he had just blown first impressions. He went to breakfast with low spirits, and the anticipation of a Danger Room session helped little.

"All right," said Logan when the students had assembled in the Danger Room, "since we have three newcomers here, we're going to start off with something simple: free for all, no holograms, no weapons."

"Then what's left for the Danger Room to do?" asked Kurt.

Logan's grin was feral. "Lights." With that, the room became pitch black, and chaos ensued.

* * *

Getting all of the hair out of the drains and off the floor from both bathrooms had just about exhausted Scout, and she had filled two plastic bags with the various body trimmings she had found as well as trash and paper towels. She did a final once-over on both bathrooms upstairs and smiled at her handiwork.

She placed the cleaning supplies back in the utility closet and headed downstairs towards the dining room/kitchen, noting that the mansion was much more quiet than before. The silence spooked her as even her softest footsteps echoed off the walls and betrayed her presence to whoever might be watching her from around the corner or from a hidden camera.

It was a great relief to be in the smaller, more intimate dining area, even as tables of plates and dining utensils greeted her. With a sigh, she began to fill the sink with water and clean the utensils.

* * *

A collective groan rose from the pile of students in the center of the Danger Room as the lights flickered back up. A swirling mass of black miasma sat in the corner, wrapped around Hector like a protective cocoon.

"Well, it took me a bit longer than last time to beat you all into the pile, so you're improving," laughed Logan. "As for you three, not bad for first-timers." He turned to the black miasma. "Everything's okay now, Spooky," Logan said mockingly. "You can rejoin society now."

The miasma retracted and slipped back into Hector's body and he groaned when Logan announced that next would be individual Danger Room sessions. The X-Men would go first, then the New Mutants, and finally the three newcomers.

Hector watched with barely concealed boredom as most of the teenage X-Men passed through their custom chambers with ease. Shadowcat might as well have not had one, since she just walked through all her obstacles to retrieve the goal flag. When it was Rogue's turn, though, he paid more attention. How would Rogue's power help her when there were no organic beings to absorb?

What followed was a spectacular showing of flexibility and strength that reminded Hector that Rogue's toned arm muscles were not just for show as she twisted herself in what looked to be rather painful shapes to get past a field of lasers and knocked down some androids with one punch each to retrieve her flag and head to the exit.

Hector had to admit that Rogue and the rest of the X-Men had been impressive. He could not say the same for the New Mutants, whose relative inexperience showed as they moved through the obstacle course with either more hesitation or more reckless abandon than the X-Men. He had to struggle not to laugh when Cannonball blasted through one projectile only to be caught off-guard by another one that had snuck up from behind and knocked him to the ground. Multiple's solution to problems seemed to be to make more duplicates of himself, but that only gave the Danger Room more things to toss at him.

_Basic strategy, dumbass. Don't bring or make more weapons than you absolutely need._ Sunspot and Magma's solar- and fire-based powers took out most obstacles, but Logan took off points for excess collateral damage. Berserker's electricity shorted out the androids and smaller weapons well enough, but he was stuck when entire sections of the wall and floor turned against him. Of all of them, Iceman did the best, sliding across ice paths to quickly evade obstacles and androids while freezing anything he could to prevent them from ever reaching him.

Finally, Logan turned to the three fresh meats. "All right, Spooky, why don't you go first?"

"He's not going to be permanently injured, is he?" asked Renée.

Hector inwardly groaned and let his miasma quickly carry him into the arena. _I don't need your help._

Logan chuckled, which immediately put everyone else on guard. "No. Nothing a stay in the medical ward won't solve."

"Thanks for the confidence boost," Hector grunted. The Danger Room whirred to life to give Hector an obstacle course full of pistons jutting out of the walls, floor, and ceiling to block him from the flag. From a glance, Hector could tell that the pistons were too thick for him to cut through, but he quickly identified the patterns and used his miasma to weave through the pistons. As he neared the goal, a part of the floor that had stayed perfectly still suddenly shot up when he stepped on it. Hector dove off the platform and grabbed the flag with his miasma, dashing towards the exit. He wished that there had been androids for him to chop up a bit.

"Well?" he asked Logan.

"Not bad for a beginner."

* * *

The kitchen had been an aquatic chrome and steel paradise compared to the lounges. At least the kitchen and dining room had managed to contain its chaos to the dining table and the area near the sink, and it had been simple if repetitive work to get all the dishes and utensils rinsed and inside the dishwasher. The lounges, however, had sprawled chaos, with couch cushions spread everywhere, music CDs lying about, and empty food packages strewn about. That was not even mentioning the crumbs! After an apparent eternity, Scout had cleaned and organized the lounge areas and thrown out all of the litter and food flakes.

Scout hoisted a bag over her shoulder. It was filled with the CDs (placed back in their cases), books, and various other items she had found laying around while cleaning. She was supposed to take out the trash, but what if she threw away something of personal value by accident? She would have to ask the students themselves whether any of these things were valuable, but where were they? On the map Mr. McCoy gave her, she found the library and dashed over.

"Hello there, Scout," he greeted her warmly. "How are things going so far?"

"I've finally finished everything on this list," Scout announced with pride.

"Well!" Mr. McCoy exclaimed with a laugh, closing the book he was reading. "You're just what I've been looking for then. May I check your handiwork?"

"Of course, but I need to find the students so I can ask them which of these belong to them," Scout explained. "I don't want to throw away something important by accident."

"They're in the training room right now in the basement level," Mr. McCoy answered. "See it on the map?"

Scout nodded. "Thank you, Mr. McCoy. I hope my work is good enough for you!" she said, and she went off to go to the training room.

* * *

The androids really never stood a chance as Ace overheated the poor things on contact, and anything that got within three meters of him would suffer the same fate. Yet, Ace had trouble with his timing as he had trouble navigating through the obstacle course, and Hector frowned. H_e's way better than this. What's he hiding for?_ Eventually, Ace retrieved the flag and received an evaluation of "Okay, but you need work on timing" from the smelly old Canuck.

Renée's mutation, like Rogue's, was of no use against non-organic beings, but while Rogue had favored a fist to the metal face, Renée preferred to bludgeon an android with her Bo staff first, and then swing the broken one like a club against all the others. Hector's eyes drifted toward the others in the observation booth, and with a snort he noted that most of the teenage males in the New Mutants were gawking openly at Renée. With the amount of bouncing her ample chest did as she swung around, Hector understood, but could not help but be amused. _She has more balls than all of you put together._ Finally, Renée smashed the last android and retrieve the flag.

"How did I perform?"

"Not bad." Logan turned to face all of the students. "All right, my turn. Let's see if you can design a course that will beat me. Remember, if you do, I'll give you a week off." Logan stepped into the arena as the students crowded around the control panel, Scott making sure that there wasn't too much frenzy. Lasers, sleeping gas, explosions, robotic monsters with giant, waving arms were all thrown into the mix, all to dissuade Logan from disabling a time bomb within the limit. Hector was particularly gleeful to add some power saws and knives to the mix.

As the simulation started, Logan seemed delighted to trash everyone's dream as he dove through the lasers. It seemed that this was not going to end well for the students.

Then Hector's adrenaline spiked as he saw a petite brunette girl enter the death-trap arena through a small, unlocked door.


	6. Sleight of Hand (Jun 28)

When a missile launched straight at her, Scout ran away straight into a field of heat lasers. She ducked, stepping her right foot over one laser and spinning her left foot around another, and she leapt to avoid a sweeping laser. Like that, she danced through the field in an almost automatic response.

When she was more than halfway through, everything was clear, but her hair stood on end and her body wouldn't move. A laser swept down just inches in front of her, and when it was gone, Scout quickly did a few handsprings and somersaults and made it out of the field. Her heart pounded and from the smell of smoke discovered that a few of her hairs were singed.

The hairs on her neck remained on end, but before Scout could move, something large caught her and began thrashing her about. Once her stomach settled and Scout became accustomed to the violent motions, she saw that she was caught in the claw of a giant cybernetic octopus in the center of the Danger Room.

Scout took a deep breath, and in the distance she heard a man grunting and the sound of ripping metal. As bile began to build in her stomach, Scout clenched her teeth and fixed her eyes at the center of the spinning machine. Her largest, densest bone spike yet burst from her right hand at it.

From the observation deck, Hector breathed a sigh of relief as the machine jammed up and released the girl. Kitty had been frantically working at the control panel since the girl had entered the laser field and had disabled everything except the time bomb. She kept typing, but as a security measure, she turned on the speaker and said, "Logan, can you disable the-"

"On it, Half Pint," Logan answered. "Nobody else in here until it's all clear, got it?"

Everyone said yes, though Hector with every intention to be disobedient if he saw that Nadia really needed him.

Disoriented from the spinning, Scout stumbled around trying to find a quiet corner to get away from all the chaos. She pushed the bile that threatened to spill out of her throat back down into her stomach and stared straight ahead, the dizzy feeling receding.

"Move kid!" she heard the earlier gruff voice shout. "You're right under the bomb."

Scout sprang forth and ran along the edge of the room towards the entrance door, her ears filled with the sound of the bomb's beeping growing louder and quicker, joined by a thunderous tempo of her heartbeat, and for a brief moment Scout thought she would die of fright.

"I got it!" Logan shouted, and in the observation deck everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Hector made a mad dash towards the stairs leading into the arena, where Scout fell to her knees as the beeping stopped but her heart kept pounding.

Logan reached her first, and Scout gazed upwards when his shadow cast over her. She could smell tobacco and sweat from this muscled and wild-looking man whose appearance and voice reminded her of the talking wolves in fairy tales that ate small children. Her wild imagination was not calmed at all when he glared at her and growled, "Well, kid?"

In her scattered state of mind, all Scout could do was smile for mercy and say, "Please don't eat me."

Hector heard Logan release a bark of laughter, and feared the worst. Rushing into the arena, he saw her eyes light up at the sight of him. Logan turned too and asked, "What're you doing, Spooky?"

"All clear, right Logan?" Hector said. "She's scared." _And you're not helping matters._

Scout suddenly realized the pitiful picture she presented and sprang to her feet. Dusting off her clothes, she smiled and said, "Ah, sorry, just-" _Deep breath_. "Just panicked there."

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" demanded Logan.

Scout turned red with embarrassment but maintained eye contact. "I'm Scout. I came here because the blue- because Mr. McCoy posted a cleaning job for here and I… well, what I mean to say is my family really needs money."  
"And you came in this room because?"

"Found things lying around and I wanted to ask if they were trash or personal," Scout responded with less shaking in her voice now. "Mr. McCoy said I'd find the students in the Danger Room, and I thought that door led there." She pointed to the observation deck. _I had a map. I should have checked the map to make sure. Why didn't I do that? Idiot!_

"What were you thinking? Didn't you hear the noise?"

For a moment, Scout's eyes darted towards the floor, and she wished it would swallow her. "I… I heard some noise, but it was muffled and the door wasn't locked," Scout said. '_The door wasn't locked.' Stupid!_ She looked around at the mess. "I didn't think it would be this bad. I'm really sorry for interrupting and screwing up your training."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, and Hector could see some gears turning in his head. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

Scout's eyes went blank. "What?"

"You dodged the lasers pretty well for someone who's here for a cleaning job." Logan narrowed his eyes and unleashed a claw. "Anything we should know?"

"I don't know," Scout protested. "Really!" She shifted from one leg to the other and fiddled with her hands behind her back. Then her eyes took a look at his claw, and focused on her current surroundings, and a memory no more than a feeling drifted forth.

_The "snikt" was unmistakable. She was panting, exhausted, but her trainer had claws that could hurt even her, and she still had training to complete._

"Wait!" Scout said, louder than before. "Your claws… Have we ever met before? Did you train me in martial arts? Were you the one who taught me Eskrima?"

Hector looked up and made eye contact with Renée and Ace and saw that their shocked expressions mirrored his.

Logan's expression hardened into a frightening cross between anger and fear. A dark "Not sure," was all he said in response.

Scout's face fell. "Oh," she murmured. She forced a small smile and asked, "May I go back to work, then?"

Logan's eyes scanned Scout in a way that both Hector and Scout found familiar. "Fine, kid. Try not to get yourself killed."

"No," Scout shook her head and turned to Hector and her small smile widened. "Nice to see you again. Will you show me how to get up there?" she asked, pointing at the observation deck where everyone else was watching.

Without hesitation, Hector grabbed her hand and led her towards the right stairwell. He glanced upward and relished in the scandalized looks that Renée and Ace were sending their way.

* * *

"My Stone Zephyrs CD!" Kurt cried, delightfully swinging from a hanging light.

"Oh! I thought you had this lip gloss, Amara," said Kitty.

"Yeah, I lost it but you never came to look for it," Amara replied sheepishly.

The students introduced themselves to the new cleaner quickly claimed any belongings that belonged to them from Scout's collection. Soon, the other professors came to the Danger Room to help with cleanup, and they picked up most of what remained.

"I have been looking for this seed packet," said Ms. Munroe. "Oh, my manners. I am Ororo Munroe. It is lovely to meet you, Scout. Hank has been telling me about you."

There was a small static shock when Scout and Ms. Munroe shook hands, but Scout found the majestic lady very nice. When a bald, authoritative-looking man came into the deck using a wheelchair, Ms. Munroe turned to him and said, "Charles, meet Scout, the cleaner that Hank hired." She then turned to address Scout. "Scout, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He's the headmaster of the Institute."

"We call him the Professor for short," Kurt explained.

"Or Professor X," Kitty added.

"Hank tells me you've done a thorough job cleaning this place," Professor X said, "and you can call me whatever suits you best."

"Chuck?" Hector piped. Scout turned to smile at him and Logan smirked.

"Except that."

After a moment of disappointment, Scout decided on Professor X. It sounded the coolest.

Scout smiled at Mr. McCoy for the compliment. "Thank you, sir."

"You missed a few tiny hairs here and there in the showers," Mr. McCoy said, "but really nothing to worry about."

When Scout shook hands with Professor X and made eye contact, she felt something forceful in his gaze, and marveled at how much natural authority he possessed. She felt a lump form in her throat when he seemed to glare at her for a fleeting moment, but a warm smile came to his face naturally. I'm just being paranoid. Scout assured herself.

All that remained in the pile were some stray socks missing their match, and soon Scout joined the others in cleanup, mostly by picking up and sorting debris. After a quick glance around the Danger Room, Scout slipped an index card from her sleeve elbow into her cuff. She picked up loose panels and placed them on a wheeled cart. A crew consisting of Hector, Ace, and Scott would be putting them back in place. As Scout pushed the cart, she had difficulty navigating around the exposed octopus robot and bumped into Kitty, who was running diagnostics on the machine.

"Ah, excuse me," they said at the same time.

They smiled at each other and Scout said, "Sorry. I'm having trouble with this and I should've given you more room."

"It's okay," Kitty assured her. "Here, it'll be easier if you don't lean so much on the rail. It puts pressure on the wheels."

"Thanks! See you around," said Scout with a wave of her hand.

Hector glanced over at the pair of girls and his eyes narrowed. He knew a pickpocket trick when he saw one, but why would Nadia even think about doing such a thing when she wanted to be employed.

"Scott!" shouted Scout as she approached, "I brought all the panels I could find."

"Hector, bring them up," said Scott.

Hector did as he was told, and as he glanced up he noticed that Ace was looking suspiciously at Nadia as well, and not in the usual suspicious way. With a sigh, Hector tried to forget about it and focus on the task at hand, but it bothered him. Had Nadia (she was going by Scout, and he really had to remember that for her sake) really forgotten everything, or was it all a front so she could-

_'That smoke is beautiful'_

_'Nice to see you again.'_

She said both with a smile on her face and a happy voice for him. No, the amnesia was not a front.

Then what was Na- Scout up to?

* * *

"All right. You will be compensated the hourly rate for this trial day, and I'd like to hire you for the summer," explained Mr. McCoy. "I'd hate to keep you from enjoying a school vacation, though. What times are you available?"

"Uh, I could work full time from nine to five if you wanted, weekends included, so I could, y'know clean up messes as they happen and be around to clear the kitchen for two meals," Scout replied. "Like I said, I have nothing to do all summer, and I'd really like to help out my family." Saying that out loud made it seem harsh and cold, and the metallic surroundings of the Danger Room control deck was not helping matters.

Mr. McCoy's adjusted his glasses. "Well, since you are a minor," he said, "if you wanted to work full time, I'd need to see a permit." Scout's brows furrowed in confusion, so he explained further, "You can get them at any public high school by showing some proof of age and a written statement from a doctor saying that you're physically fit to work."

Scout's eyes widened and her mouth went slack at the impossibility of getting all that paperwork when she didn't even know her own birthday. Mr. McCoy held out a hand and said, "As I said, that's only if you worked full time. Since you're performing chores on a private property, you don't need a permit if you work part time."

South sighed in relief. "So, when would you like me to work?"

Mr. McCoy rubbed his chin. "Knowing the training schedules, how about 10AM to 2PM from Monday to Friday? The students tend to go out a lot more on weekends, especially since Ororo convinced Logan they need a break from training. I'd just need you to do the showers and lounge in the morning and the kitchen after breakfast and lunch."

Scout grinned and reached out her hand and they shook on it. "Thank you so much," she enthused. "I can't wait to start next week."

"You're welcome. Thank you for getting the lounge clean," laughed Hank. "I never thought anyone would get all of those crumbs out from between the cushions and actually organize all those books." He ushered Scout out of the observation deck and upstairs, and after they waved goodbye he introduced himself to a blonde woman in a rumpled gray suit.

Scout practically skipped down the hallway but slowed before a corner when she sensed someone else approaching. Kitty came around with a booklet in her hand.

"Congratulations on the job," Kitty said.

Scout nodded and felt that lump again.

Kitty rubbed her fingers along the spine of the booklet and then handed it to Scout. "Just thought I'd give you this so you know everything you need to know about the place," she explained. "Good luck with your job!" With that, Kitty turned around and disappeared behind the corner.

After a glance at the booklet, Scout stuffed it into a pocket on the inside of her jacket. Scout exited the Institute to where her bike was locked, and as she undid the lock, the blonde woman from earlier walked briskly past her towards the gate, a nervous expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" Scout asked.

The woman turned and nodded. "I... I applied for a job here. I thought I could handle them- it, I mean, but..." she trailed off and shook her head, slipping into a car parked at the front and driving through the gates.

Scout thought of her until she arrived back to the boarding house. Outside, Todd seemed to be concentrating on something in a notepad. When she got in and slipped off her shoes, she saw Fred clearing up the dishes from lunch, while Pietro was helping Wanda with a clothing project of hers in the living room. The physical effects of a surprise robot octopus attack were finally beginning to take their toll, but she couldn't quite collapse yet.

Making her way to Lance's room, she pulled out the booklet and flipped through. The index card she had slipped into Kitty's jeans fell to the floor, and Scout picked it up. On one side was Lance's fast scrawl, "Free all 7/4 and 7/8 from 6PM. Usual meeting spot. What works for you? (I'll explain this card.)"

On the other side, Kitty had written in a rounded and precise penmanship, "First one. Can't wait to hear about this."

Scout placed the booklet with the index card sticking out on Lance's pillow and went down the hall to her room. She slipped off her jacket, and when her body hit her mattress, she instantly fell asleep.


	7. The New Guys (Jun 28)

As everyone except Scout and Mr. McCoy shuffled out of the Danger Room either through the observation deck or through the door, Hector kept thinking about Scout's sleight-of-hand trick. Was the Brotherhood up to something and using Scout as their stupid pawn? It was in her nature.

Hector slowed his walking pace until he was behind both Renée and Ace and when neither were watching him he slipped away to eavesdrop on the conversation in the observation deck.

"That's only if you worked full time," said Mr. McCoy. "Since you're performing chores on a private property, you don't need a permit if you work part time."

"So, when would you like me to work?" Scout asked.

"Knowing the training schedules, how about 10AM to 2PM from Monday to Friday?"

That was what Hector wanted to hear, and he was thrilled to hear Scout accept those terms. She would be around every weekday for at least four hours, but Hector stopped himself from celebrating when he remembered that the whole arrangement still reeked of a spy operation.

As he heard the conversation wind down and footsteps approaching the door, he bailed and ran to the dining room. On his way, he saw Kitty walking towards him with a booklet in her hands.

"Kitty?" Hector asked.

Kitty phased right through him to avoid a collision. "Hm? Oh! Sorry Hector," she said, "I gotta take care of something." Without even a backward glance, off she went.

Hector couldn't quite figure out why, but for some reason the brief exchange left him feeling irritated. His mood brightened when he entered the dining room and saw a bubbling pot of beef stew on the table, but Renée restrained his arm when he tried to grab for the ladle. He would have snapped at her, but then he realized that everyone was looking at Xavier. The man had his hands together in that chapel position that meant he had something important to tell.

"Ah, there you are, Hector," said Xavier. "Now we just wait for Kitty to return." They didn't have to wait long, and after Kitty dashed back and took her spot between Kurt and Rogue, Xavier began, "Everyone here? I have an announcement to make."

_That was obvious. Get to the point._ Hector's stomach pained as he stared at the stew.

"Ever since the battle with Apocalypse," Xavier said, "Magneto has disbanded the Acolytes as a formal group, and though a few of them have remained with him for protection, I hope you will all join me in welcoming two more new members to the Institute."

A tall, broad-shouldered man with closely shaved black hair came into the room, followed by a lean brunette man in a worn trenchcoat and striking eyes, with red irises on black sclera.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet Piotr Rasputin and Remy LeBeau," Xavier said. "You've known them as Colossus and Gambit."

"Hello," Piotr held up his hand to wave, but ducked his head a bit, as if trying to shrink himself to better fit the room.

Remy, on the other hand, gave a jaunty wave and "Bonjour!" and Hector didn't quite know what to say at the moment. He regained some of his irritation when he saw Remy cast a lingering glance at Renée.

"I see we're not your only new recruits," said Remy. "Like he said, I'm Remy."

"A pleasure to meet you both. My name is Ace."

"I'm Renée. I've heard great things about you."

"Hector."

"No last names?" asked Remy.

Renée and Hector made a moment's eye contact. "It's complicated," Renée explained. She wrung her hands a bit and glanced at Xavier.

"You may speak about it on your own time, unless I feel the information is of urgent importance," Xavier said. "I think we better get started. Hector's been eyeing the stew ever since he arrived."

The statement was true and Hector felt no shame for being hungry as he helped himself to generous portions and chewed on a succulent chunk of beef. Remy took a seat between Hector and Renée and struck up a conversation.

"So you know 'bout our powers?" asked Remy. Ace answered with a nod. "What can you do?"

Hector was just finishing his first helping of soup, gulping down the broth (he really was famished). Ignoring the weary look Renée gave him for the noise, he unleashed a small tendril of miasma to retrieve a small drumstick from a plate in front of him.

Remy made a "Hm" sound and asked, "That all it does?"

"No," Hector replied, and went right back to eating in the hopes that he wouldn't have to talk anymore.

Ace held his water glass and made the water boil like last time.

"You control heat?" asked Piotr.

"Yes. Do you believe your steel form will withstand it?" Ace asked with a small smile.

Piotr blinked. "Are... are you challenging me?"

"If that is how you take it," Ace said, smile widening to show teeth, "it is a friendly challenge."

A few low whistles and whoops sounded throughout the table. Hector tried to start a betting pool, but Ororo shut that down before he could even say "Five bucks minimum".

"And what about you, m'lady?" Remy turned towards Renée, making eye contact and leaning in a bit.

Hector found himself enjoying the slightly strained expression crossing Renée's face, though he really couldn't blame her. Rogue rolled her eyes at the scene. Renée forced a smile and explained, "I can control brain activity through eye contact."

"Like a psychic?"

"No," Renée shook her head, breaking eye contact and turning back towards her plate. "I can't read thoughts, but I can make you feel sleepy, encourage hallucinations, or even shut off mutations." Renée reached for her fork, but Remy grasped her hand.

"I'd hate to think what would happen if we ever fought," Remy said. Hector started getting out of his seat when Remy brought Renée's hand up to kiss it, but Renée did all the work herself by jerking her hand away at the last moment and slapping Remy across the face.

Laughter erupted from the students, either badly muffling their giggles or not even trying. Rogue let out a snort, while Logan smirked, and Hector realized that somehow his knife had gotten into his hand.

Remy glanced at Hector. "Something wrong?"

Hector bit back his reply of "You" and focused on Renée, whose shoulders had hunched over and was currently pink with embarrassment. "You okay?"

Renée's intense concentration on her food broke for a second, and she sighed. "I'm fine, just a bit skeeved," she said. Turning towards Remy, she calmly stated, "I realize that seemed harmless to you and you don't know me, but please never, ever, do that again." From how strongly she was glaring, Hector craned his neck to see if Remy's eyes were changing color.

"No, I won't," said Remy, surprised and remorseful. "Désolé. I mean..."

"Pas de quoi," said Renée, her smile returning. She held out her hand. "Friends?"

This time Remy shook her hand, and even Hector had to actually smile at that.

* * *

Through a fog that danced about her and shined with the indigo colors of her glass pendant, Scout heard someone's voice shouting in the distance. She floated and swam through the fog towards the voice, and it became clearer to her what he was saying.

"There you are, it's been so long."

Scout opened her mouth to speak, but the fog became thicker, and she found she had no words. Frightened by the indigo pressing in on her, she was pleasantly surprised when a strong pair of warm arms wrapped around her.

"Are you alright?" All Scout could do was embrace him back. His voice sounded so soothing that she could just melt into him and stay like this forever.

Her thoughts interrupted when a hand trailed down her neck and touched her indigo pendant. "This necklace..." he murmured. Scout tried to step back, but found that the fog was pushing against her body and preventing her from moving.

The fog above her began to clear, and Scout glanced up to get a good look at his face.

A loud, piercing voice cut through the fog. "Oh, nuts. You gotta be kiddin' me!"

Scout's eyes snapped open, but she quickly shut them so that reality wouldn't make its way through her eyes into to her brain. She groaned and turned on her side, hoping to return to that warm embrace. It didn't matter that the annoying, unfamiliar voice was still rambling just feet away from her. That voice wasn't here, she wasn't in her bedroom in the boarding house, and at any moment that kind man would-

"You're not staying here!" Lance shouted, stomping into her room.

Scout said a silent prayer that she'd meet that man again and sat up, eyelids half-shut. There was a wild-looking man with orange hair and a wide grin sitting on her bed and Lance was glaring at him.

Rubbing her eyes, Scout said softly, "I'm Scout. You?"

"I'm John and I'm the one who's supposed to get this room," the maniac said with a broken Australian accent. "You mind moving out, or maybe sharing?"

Scout closed her eyes and fell back onto the bed, relishing how soft the pillow was.

"So, sharing?"

"No," Scout grumbled and Lance snarled.

The weight lifted from her bed and she heard fabric and zipper rustling. Scout began to form a bone needle in her right index finger just in case a fight broke out. "Look, if money's tight, Magneto's paying for my stay here," said John. Scout heard the rustling of paper bills and opened her eyes to see that Lance had calmed a bit, though his eyebrows were still furrowed and his mouth in a tight frown.

The expression made him look so much older than when he had been laughing with her the previous night. She didn't like it.

"Fine," Lance finally said, thumbing through the stack. "We'll talk with the others about sleeping arrangements at dinner."

"Yeah!" John cheered.

At this point, Scout gave up on ever finding that warm, kind stranger again, so she wiped the light sand from her eyes and slid off the bed. She remembered something as she slid on her jacket. "Hey Lance, did you find th-"

"Yeah," Lance smiled. "Thanks."

The clock in the living room said it was 3:42 PM, so Scout went outside. She took a deep breath, relishing the fresh air, and then strolled into the forest where she first woke up. Crouching down, she examined the area, looking for footprints, signs, anything that might be a lead.

She then circled the tree she woke up under, and she found a few strands of hair stuck in the bark. Upon close examination, the short brown hairs were likely her own, and so she was back to square one.

With a disappointed sigh, Scout lay down and gazed at the clouds and blue sky filtering through the trees. Gazing at the branches, she remembered the Danger Room session and was struck by inspiration. She stood and burst from her hands bone-and-cartilage grappling hooks, one in each hand, and looped them around the lowest tree branches she could find. With a bit of climbing work, she got higher and repeated the process with other nearby branches, and soon she was swinging too and fro and hollering at the top of her lungs.

Her fun quickly ended when, with a creak and a snap, a branch that looked sturdy fell out from under her when she landed, and only by jamming her hooks into the trunk did Scout slow down enough not to land with a soft thud rather than a crunch.

"Plan B," Scout muttered, dusting herself off. She searched the trees near the boarding house for a low, thick branch that had plenty of room underneath it, and found one near the fence in the backyard. She went inside, took off her shoes, and went to the front hall closet. There hadn't been a large-enough tire when she and Lance had dumped through it last, but surely there would be rope?

First though, she wanted to organize this closet. As she peered inside, a ski fell, smacking her head. Narrowing her eyes, Scout rolled up her sleeves. She _had_ to organize the closet.

* * *

Through trial and error and stacking and unstacking, Scout had found a way to arrange the larger objects securely inside the closet when a mouth-watering scent hit her nose. Abandoning the pile of sports equipment and board games, she made her way into the dining room.

Fred was stirring a pot of pasta. Toad was blowing raspberries at John, who was trying to strike up a conversation with Wanda, who looked like she wanted someone to shoot her.

"Get out, Pyro," Toad yelled. "I was here first!"

"I don't see your name carved here, wart," John sneered back.

Wanda rubbed her temples. "It won't matter who's sitting here if you both won't shut up."

"Sorry my lady," John said. He turned back to Toad and scowled. "You hear that? Scram."

"Make me, matchstick."

John's scowl turned into a fiendish grin and he drew from his pocket a Zippo lighter. With a click, a large flame burst in front of Toad's face, sending the poor guy yelping out of his seat.

"Hey!" Fred brought the pot of spaghetti over and set it firmly on the table before grabbing John by the collar. "You don't do that to my friend." He snatched John's lighter with his free hand and crushed it. "Got it?"

"Absolutely," said John. His lower lip was trembling, but the grin was still on his face. He did a salute and Fred shoved him back into his seat.

Scout took a seat across from Wanda, and Lance and Pietro finally joined them all.

"All right, so before we eat, we might as well decide right now where John's sleeping," Lance said.

"There's six bedrooms upstairs," said Scout.

"And not including Firefly," said Toad, "the six of us have already taken those."

"Which means someone will have to share a room," concluded Pietro.

There was a moment of silence before six voices shouted "Not me!" simultaneously.

"What? Oh come on. C'mon, Wanda," John begged. "Can't you spare a little-"

"No," Wanda's hands had a faint blue glow to them as she pinned John down with a glare.

"He tried to cook me!" cried Toad.

"And I'm pissed about that," added Fred with a grimace.

Pietro simply turned up his nose, and John's grin turned downright nasty for a moment, as if he would punch Pietro across the face right then and there.

"Well John, until we agree on something else," Lance said, helping himself to some pasta, "you can probably sleep on the couch in the living room."

"Yeesh," John groaned. "And Mags made you all sound so hospitable."

* * *

That night, Scout had finally managed to organize the front hall closet, but she hadn't found any rope or tires.

As she saw John testing out the couch and tossing and turning, she pulled out a blanket she had found and aired it out, waving it a few times to rid it of dust. She brought it over to the living room.

"Can I help you?" John asked when he saw her.

"Um, I think I can make it more comfortable. Stand up, please."

John quirked an eyebrow and did so. Scout adjusted the pillows to the right positions and draped the blanket over the couch, smoothing out the gaps between cushions and where the arms met the seat. Rubbing her thumb and index finger together, she created some pins from her bones to keep the blanket in place. "Try it?"

John plopped himself down and stretched himself on. "Much, much better," he sighed. "G'night!"

"Good night."

"You're not so bad," he called after Scout as she went upstairs. "Can I share your room after tonight?"

"No!"

Scout giggled. She had heard Lance's voice overlapping hers.


	8. Swing and a Miss (Jun 29)

Sleeping arrangements shifted again with the former Acolytes' arrival, though Hector had little to complain about. Ace had be moved out of their bedroom and now roomed with with Piotr, and Remy shared a room with Hector. The thief made little noise even when in motion, and during the night Hector had worried that Remy would go through his things might discover the countdown clock. Finishing his breakfast quickly, he briskly walked upstairs to his room and checked his bag. His fingers brushed against the cool metal and he sighed in relief.

___362:06:44:26.51_

Closing the curtains and door and glanced around to make sure absolutely no one was watching. Neither he nor Ace had added any decorations to the sparsely furnished room, and nobody was hiding under the bed, in the armoires, or behind the nightstands. Hector backed up against the wall behind the door. With a deep breath, he released the miasma and engulfed the disc with it. Winding tight, the miasma secured the disc tightly against his abs as if it were a plate of armor.

Nobody would be able to tell that he had it under there, and if they felt him he could just chalk it up to his mutation, but he had to hide it somewhere safer. What if by accident it broke to the point not even Forge could help them?

Hector jumped when the door opened and nearly smacked him in the face. Ace entered the room and began gathering what little belongings he had. As Hector's pulse returned to normal, he gritted his teeth.

His now-former roommate would know what to do, but why did Hector have to ask him?

"Trying to hide the Frisbee?" Ace asked, looking up from his bag.

Hector mouth and eye twitched. "It's an important Frisbee," he replied.

"We know," Ace said. His usual charisma was absent, and in a bored tone he asked, "Would you like me to hide it?"

Hector didn't say anything. Closing the door and doing another check, he unwound the disc from his miasma, and now he felt stupid for ever putting in the effort to bind it to him in the first place. He held it out for Ace to take as if he was trying to get rid of it.

Was Ace glaring at him? Hector was about ask him what the hell he was staring at when Ace took the disc and slipped it into his bag.

"That's where?" hissed Hector.

"No."

With that, Ace took his stuff and left the room.

Hector formed his miasma into a blade as he imagined stabbing it into that arrogant prick's head. He had to get out of the X-Mansion. He needed to see _her_.

* * *

The cleaned closet made the foyer seem filthy by comparison, so the next morning, as soon as she woke up, Scout began to clean the area with a damp cloth and dry brush, all the while thinking about the tire swing she wanted to build outside. As she tried to destroy another spiderweb, Lance yanked her away from her trance to eat her breakfast already.

"But I just need to get out one tiny spot!"

"You said that five spots ago," Lance said, dragging her to the table.

Scout saved him the trouble of having to force feed her, but any resolve to chew angrily disappeared as the first bit of syrup-glazed waffle popped into her mouth.

"You guys have any rope anywhere?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"What for?" said Pietro.

"A tire swing. The closet didn't have any."

"Where're you going to find a tire?" asked John.

Scout paused and glanced at Lance, who firmly refused with a wry smile. "But I know a place," he continued. "I can take you there and help you out."

"There's gotta be some rope in those boxes in your room," said Fred. He then gave a small smile. "Can I use the swing when you're done building it?"

John snorted as he eyed Fred's girth, but Scout only nodded and chirped, "Of course!"

It seemed that Toad had noticed John's derisive snort, since he was scrunching his face to prepare a slime ball. Scout quickly finished the rest of her waffles, delivered her dishes to the sink, and exited before a brawl could break out. Moments after she left the dining room, she heard a "Ptooey!" followed by a splat, and the cacophony that followed reassured Scout that she was needed in the Brotherhood.

Though she felt compelled to clean the dining area after she went back down, Fred and Wanda assured her that they had it covered, and she followed Lance to his Jeep.

* * *

There was a mountain of nothing but tires that Scout climbed in her search for that perfect tire. The scruffy man who oversaw the junkyard had greeted Lance like an old friend, and they were currently chatting.

_There_. Scout ran her fingers along the tire in front of her, checking for bruises, inhaling it's scent and delighted to find that ist smelled more like rubber than dirt. Firm, not too worn, and large enough for Fred. She pulled at it, pushing her feet against the mountain and leaning back.

"Scout, you need help?"

"No! Hrgh. I think I-"

There was a pop and light thud as the tire wrenched free, and Scout along with it. As she went airborne, the sky above Scout suddenly... changed, and a painful sensation jolted through her legs. She could create a grappling hook from her bones and steady herself, but Scout could not will herself to move and simply fell, dreading the moment of impact as Lance seemed to shout in the distance.

A strong pair of arms caught her and saved her from complete humiliation. For a moment, Scout wondered if it was the man of her dreams, only to realize this embrace was cool and soothing rather than warm and comforting.

Scout sighed in relief and laughed. "Thank you so much, L-" A flash of white gave her pause, and she looked up. "Hec-?"

"Sh. You don't know me," Hector whispered with a wink.

Lance and the junkyard keeper rushed over. "You all right, Scout?" Lance asked.

"Yeah," Scout glanced at Hector. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure. Not everyday I get to rescue someone like that," Hector smiled.

"When did you get here?" asked the keeper.

"Earlier," Hector said. Ignoring the keeper's scowl at his answer, he said, "I was mostly just looking around, you know, I know I'll need it when I see it."

The keeper scowl softened a bit and he nodded. Hector turned to Lance. "My name's Hector," he held out a hand. "You're Lance Alvers, right?"

Lance hesitantly shook his hand, keeping eye contact with Hector. "How'd you-"

"You're one of the Brotherhood. Everyone here knows you," Hector grinned.

Lance now looked really confused. "And you're happier than most because...?"

"Hey, you caused a bunch of disasters around here, but you, man," Hector laughed, "you buried an entire bomb underground and then you helped stop a looney toon from taking over Earth." The words came surprisingly easily to Hector's mouth, and he didn't feel like cringing saying such things to Lance.

Scout grinned. Lance actually looked kind of embarrassed. She didn't think it was possible for him to look like that in matters that didn't concern Kitty.

"I'm a mutant myself, y'know," Hector explained, releasing a few small tendrils of miasma and smirking at the keeper's slightly disturbed expression. "What are you looking for?"

"Well, we found a tire for a tire swing," said Scout, "but if Fred's going to be using it, I think we'll need some lumber for extra support."

"Alright then, Miss..."

"Scout."

"Scout." Hector blinked and gave a lopsided grin. "Scout? Really? Were your parents that big fans of _To Kill a Mockingbird_?"

Scout shrugged, but she kept on trying to recall something about her parents as the keeper led them to the metal and lumber yards. Her lack of progress on finding out her past bothered her, and she was grateful for the physical labor as a mental distraction.

As she examined a piece of wood for rot and excess splinters, she found herself bumping into Hector, who leaned in to whisper, "Thanks for playing along."

Scout kept her eyes on the wood. "I don't like lying."

"You haven't lied," Hector pointed out. "You just haven't told them the whole story."

Scout took a deep breath and looked up at Hector. "Why the secrecy?"

Hector smiled. "What are you sneaking notes to Kitty for?"

Scout's eyes widened and her heart rate spiked. "How-?"

"For Lance, right?" Hector was rather amused by her nervousness, but feigned concentration on a large piece of lumber when Lance glanced their way. "I'd like to get to know you better. You fight great."

Scout set down the piece of wood in her hand, deciding the split on it was too big, and said, "You want to be my friend?" She picked up a piece that seemed more promising.

"I won't tell Logan about what you're doing if you say yes," Hector said. "In return, don't tell the Brotherhood too much about me. You see the ribbing Lance already gets for being friendly with the X-Men, right?"

"Hey you two!" Lance called. "Find anything?"

"I got one piece," answered Hector.

"Same," said Scout.

"Shall I ring them up for ya, then?" asked the keeper.

The three of them agreed, and as they parted ways at the entrance, Hector tugged a loose strand of Scout's hair and smiled. "Nice to meet you two," he said, and then left.

On the way back, Scout stared at the scenery rushing past and concentrated on the rumble of the engine. For some reason, she felt more exhausted than she had after her Danger Room session. Glancing at the sky, she murmured to no one in particular, "I wonder if Hector found anything he wanted."

"Two strange guys who've approached you recently," grumbled Lance. "Think it might be a coincidence?"

"Hm," Scout said. She remembered the indigo, and how it reminded her of Hector's smoky miasma. "He seemed nice, though."

"You willingly stay with us," Lance chuckled. "You're generous when it comes to 'nice.'"

* * *

The walk back to the X-Mansion meant dealing with a barrage of political advertising. All along the roads and sidewalks were political signs for either Richardson or Kelly, though the latter were more common, and Hector grimaced at the memory of the mechanic who had pissed of Renée. A few overly cheery people with the dreaded clipboards pestered him, asking him if he was registered to vote. He only marched past them, not even bothering telling them he wasn't old enough.

By the time he arrived back, he was just about sick of politics, but passing by the lounge, he saw a few of the residents glancing with concern at the TV.

"In anticipation of the coming Fourth of July celebration," droned the news lady, "we would like to remind you of the upcoming Bayville mayor election in the fall. As it stands, the principal of Bayville High Edward Kelly is ahead in the polls. It is speculated that current Mayor Richardson's soft stance on mutants may cost him his seat."

The tv switched to some on-the-street candid interviews. It didn't matter to Hector what their names were; it was your standard collection of someone professional...

"I just think mutants should be monitored, that's all," mumbled a man in a three-piece suit, "I mean, I know some, just a little antsy, you know?"

... someone elderly...

"It's all the chemicals in food these days," said an old lady, shaking her head.

... someone blue-collar...

"I don't trust them. I think this is all a government experiment gone wrong," a man grumbled, "and dammit I think a cure should be made."

... and someone in their teens.

"I wonder if I might get powers," said a young girl, glancing between her hands and the interviewer. "I mean, it might be cool."

"Careful what you wish for," Rogue drawled. "I hope they do develop a cure."

Scott sighed. "While a cure would be nice, if they do find one, they might force mutants to take it."

Rogue grimaced. "Well, I dunno," she wondered. "Maybe if we didn't call ourselves mutants. I mean, it makes us seem like an alien species."

"We've already been branded mutants," said Kitty with a sympathetic pat to Rogue's shoulder. "We can't avoid it now."

"Besides, some of us aren't ashamed of being mutants," said Scott.

"I didn't mean I was ashamed, just- Ugh!" Rogue's face scrunched up in frustration.

Remy wrapped an arm around Rogue that she flinched at, but didn't struggle to get away from. "Don't worry, _cherie_," he said. "You'll gain control." Hector glanced at Kitty and quietly snorted at her expression; her brows were furrowed as if to protect her friend from the fiend, but her smile indicated that she was happy for Rogue. A confused sort of happy, but happy.

"Which sounds better?" asked Hector. "Mutant, or genetically-challenged? I imagine Magneto might go further and advocate for evolved or genetically-enhanced."

Rogue blinked and sighed. "Fine," she relented. "Might as well stick with mutant."

"Glad I could help," said Hector. "So, I'm not originally from here. What's Kelly's problem?"

* * *

After a hearty lunch, Fred presented some thick ropes and a ladder he dug up while Lance and Scout were away, and Lance dug out a tool kit from the foyer closet. As they cleaned their dishes, Scout asked Pietro, "Could you help? We could have this thing set up real fast if you-"

"No, can't do," Pietro waved his hand. "I'm not going to risk injury on a silly project."

Scout sighed and headed outside with Fred and Lance and their equipment, and they unloaded the lumber and tire from the back of the Jeep.

"If I'm full of mosquito bites by the time we're done," said Lance, "can you heal them, Scout?"

"Absolutely!"

It became apparent how closely Lance had been paying attention on his job at the construction site and possibly in high school physics, as he measured the branch's height from the ground and it's length from the trunk with Fred's assistance for the height. Lance scribbled the measurements on a notepad, and after a few minutes he came up with a plan for a support. He measured and marked the pieces of wood for cutting, double-checking his work to make sure he got it right, and his expression of concentration delighted Scout. _I can see why he's the Brotherhood leader_.

"Fred, hold this end still while I cut it." Lance commanded. Fred did so, careful not to crush the wood. Lance sawed through the wood. For some of the bigger pieces, Scout would hold down the other end.

Once all pieces were cut, Lance dug out some screws and a power drill. "Scout, I need you to sit on that branch and hold this piece steady," he said. "Fred, I need you to hold the ladder steady while I drill the wood. Otherwise, this will be much bloodier than it needs to be."

"Yes, sir!"

"Got it."

Scout made some bone hooks to better secure herself to the tree, and found herself nervous when the drill whirred on.

"You okay?" Fred asked.

"Don't worry. I can heal," Scout said with a smile.

Lance blinked and frowned with some worry. "Don't worry. Just stay still like that," he told her. After the initial shock of the drill wore off, Scout found herself almost apathetically calm towards the prospect of being injured, but with care, Lance managed to screw all pieces of wood in without even nicking Scout.

Once the wood supports were in place, the tire swing was easy. Lance secured the ropes around the tire, and then he showed Scout how to tie the rope around the branch. After that, he handed her a hammer and nail to keep the rope from slipping off. After everything was done, they all stepped back and dusted their hands.

"Well, time for the moment of truth," announced Lance. "Fred?"

Scout took a deep breath and watched as Fred approached the swing. He slipped one leg through, and what a relief to know that he actually fit through it. As he lifted his other leg off the ground, a creaking was heard, and both Lance and Scout flinched and Fred froze.

The swing setup remained intact, so with a deep breath, Fred slipped his other leg through the tire so he was sitting. More creaking. Scout clenched her fists and worried for Fred's safety. With a push, Fred began to swing.

One swing, a bit of creaking. Two swings, creaking, but now it seemed normal. Three swings, Fred was grinning, and so were Lance and Scout.

"YES!" Scout cheered. "Lance, you're a genius." She practically tackled Lance for a hug, which he laughed and returned, ruffling her hair. He then broke the hug so that he could scratch at his neck.

"We better head back inside before you any more get you," said Scout.

"Don't worry about Fred," Lance said. "Mosquitos can't hurt him."

Scout gathered the toolbox and Lance the ladder and they went back inside. In the living room, Scout examined Lance and found several red marks along his arms and a few on his neck. Lance flinched when he saw the needle she produced, but managed to keep his complaints to a few short gasps of breath as she lanced his bites and brought down the swelling.

Fred's laughter sounded from outside, and Scout looked out the window to see him swinging. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

* * *

That evening, Wanda sat at the end of the table and asked Scout to sit next to her to prevent a repeat of last night. As everyone was about to eat, someone knocked at their front door.

Scout rushed to open it, and was greeted with the sight of a tall, authoritative man with Pietro's coloring in a business suit.

"... Magneto?"


	9. Dinner with Magneto (Jun 29)

**Author's note:** College finals and a summer job hunt meant a long delay, but wait no more! Both Hurricane and my second editor were busy, though, so this chapter may be edited. Also, this chapter marks the end of a long setup and exposition, and I'm currently rereading my old chapters to see what can be improved, so stay tuned.

* * *

Scout suddenly felt a lump form in her throat as she stared at the man in front of her. This was Magneto, the leader of the Brotherhood. Scout struggled to keep a smile on her face and and clenched her hands into fists to stop their shaking. It didn't help that Magneto stood head and shoulders above her.

"If you leave the door open for much longer," Magneto said with a small smile and stepping into the house, "mosquitoes will rush in."

Scout rushed to slam the door shut. In the dining room, Scout heard a rush of activity as eating utensils clanged together and cabinets opened and shut. Walking over, she saw the same Pietro who refused to help her that afternoon scrambling to set up a seat for his father and make the area look less messy as he picked up bits of litter and dumped them in the garbage. The others were either looking at the scramble with mild amusement or staring at Magneto. To Scout's surprise and delight, Wanda seemed to have a small, warm smile on her lips.

"I apologize for the short notice, but I wanted to check in," said Magneto. "It seems you have a new member."

Lance sighed and got up with an irritated slump in shoulders. "Magneto, this is Scout, our new medic," he said, point his hand towards Scout. He then turned his head towards her with a small scowl on his face. "Scout, this is Magneto our..." he paused, gritting his teeth, finally saying, "leader, of sorts." There was a trace of venom in his voice, and as he made his way back to his seat at the dinner table, Scout remembered their previous conversations about Magneto and being used.

Nonetheless, so far Magneto seemed to be authoritative but kind. Scout turned toward the man and held out her hand, her smile becoming more relaxed. "Pleased to meet you, Magneto. They tell me (um) great things about you." Her smile twitched a bit when Lance coughed.

Magneto's only response to the slight was to sigh before resuming his reserved smile, which made the resemblance between him and Wanda stand out much more. He shook Scout's hand and said, "You seem rather young to be practicing medicine."

Releasing the handshake, Scout held up her hand and allowed thin needles of bone to protrude from her fingertips. "My mutation makes it pretty easy," she said. Magneto glanced in surprise at the show of her powers, then nodded as his smile grew broader. Out of pride, perhaps? The possibility was exciting, even as a voice in the back of her mind screamed that he was a terrorist. Scout retook her place next to Wanda and Magneto sat between Lance and Pietro.

"Not getting the Acolytes back together, are ya?" asked John through a mouthful of food. "It's pretty relaxing right here."

Magneto shook his head and helped himself to a serving of soup. "After Apocalypse, open conflict will not work in our favor," he explained.

"Works for me!" John grinned, showcasing all the food stuck in his teeth.

"How did you end up recruiting a medic?" Magneto asked Lance.

Lance's mouth was full, so he glanced at Scout. _They took me in because I was cold. Because I was starving? Because I can't remember anything that happened?_ She decided on honesty and said, "I woke up in the woods outside with amnesia, but I found out about my powers with this." She took out her silver pendant and displayed the screen. "I ended up in here because it was getting dark and I needed a place to sleep."

"And we let her in cause she can patch us up like magic," added Fred.

Scout smiled. "Thanks!"

Magneto frowned. "May I see your necklace?" he asked.

Scout looked to Lance. His jaw clenched, but he nodded. Scout gave Magneto her pendant, and he switched the screen off and on again.

"I have never seen a device like this," Magneto said. As his fingers brushed the screen, it waved and changed to display a white bar. A holographic keyboard formed under the screen.

"Give it back!" cried Scout, jumping out of her seat. Magneto barely loosened his grip when Scout snatched it out of his hands. Hands shaking, she tried to think of something she would use as a password.

_Scout_

The white bar flashed red and erased her entry.

_Letmein_

Red.

_password_

Red.

_password1_

"Scout, are you okay?" asked Wanda. "You don't have to keep smiling if-"

Scout slumped back into her chair. "I can't get to my memory unless I remember my password." She shook her head. "I don't know why I even got excited."

The others stared at the pendant. "If Magneto hasn't seen this kind of thing," chimed Pyro, "makes _me_ really want you to get your memories back."

Scout's eyes widened. "Oh no," she whispered. "What if I'm a secret weapon, and the moment I get my powers back my programming kicks in and I-"

"Scout," Lance said. "Calm down."

"But what if?" Scout continued. "I could kill you all or-"

"You won't," drawled Pietro, casually eating his dinner. "I'd take you down before you could blink."

Scout's witty retort died when her stomach growled loudly. She heard Toad snicker and her smile twisted when she saw Pietro smirk at her. As her face grew hot, she stuffed her mouth full of spaghetti in the hopes that nobody would talk to her.

"Have you all been keeping up with politics?" asked Magneto.

Lance shrugged. "Kelly's probably going to win, even with the whole mutants defeating Apocalypse."

Magneto looked solemn. "Him and his brother both."

Fred looked up. "Kelly has a brother?" he said with a mouth full. He quickly gulped down his food when he noticed sauce flicking everywhere.

"Robert Kelly, a senator," explained Magneto. "He's more moderate than his brother, but he still wants to monitor mutants. He's running on a platform of mutant registration and control for the safety of both mutants and humans."

Something sparked in the back of Scout's mind when Magneto said _control_. "What does he want? Just a list of names so everybody knows?"

Magneto seemed to scan her even as he maintained eye contact. "He's been very vague, but so far a national registration is the only concrete thing he's suggested."

"What about the Sentinels?" asked Scout.

Magneto's eyes narrowed and he took a long drink of water. "They've been shut down," he said, but then with added venom, "as far as the we know."

The wheels in Scout's head began turning, and she set down her fork to collect her thoughts, her eyes darting back and forth.

"Scout?" Lance asked. "What's the matter?"

"Senator Kelly may just want a national registration, but what of the other congressmen? All of them are baseline human as far as we can tell-"

"It'd be funny if one of them just mutated on the floor," giggled Toad.

"-and they answer to baseline voters. The national registration could easily mutate into something more invasive. They could easily contract the same people who made the Sentinels to make mutation dampener collars or something and require that registered mutants wear them in public to make sure their powers don't kill someone-"

"And leave them defenseless when others notice the collar?" snarled Wanda.

"Hey, the laws would probably be for baselines, not mutants," said Scout. "At the extreme, they might even end up developing a cure for the X-gene that all infants are required to-"

"I will never let that happen," Magneto said in a low, steely tone. "I will not let mutants die out."

"This does sound scary," mumbled Fred, "but considering how bad our Kelly is..."

"How can you be so sure of what Congress will do?" asked John.

"I'm not sure," Scout shook her head. "I just know enough about human nature to guess what will happen." She cleaned off the last few strands of spaghetti from her plate, and it felt flavorless in her mouth.

"Kid," said Pietro, "you're talking about stuff that's way in the-" He stopped, and his eyes shifted towards Scout's silver pendant.

Scout noticed his gaze and her heart almost stopped. Bringing up the screen, she gazed at the information available. "This gives my picture, my name (if it's my real name) and my powers," she murmured. "It's all anyone without the password would know about me." She then flexed her hand and made a few needles poke out of her skin. "But I can still use my powers when I'm wearing it, so it's not a dampener, just a... a..."

"A tag," finished Fred, "like they put on animals."

A firm hand landed on her shoulder, and Magneto spoke to her not unkindly, "It seems you may not be a weapon, but a warning. We need to find out who made that necklace and who sent you," Magneto said, getting out of his chair. "Where did you first wake up?"

"What do you mean by who sent me?" Scout's voice became rapid. "Does this mean I'm going to-"

"You're not going to kill us all Scout," interrupted Lance with exasperation. "If you're worried about it, you probably won't."

"Emphasis on probably," jeered Pietro.

"What happened to you definitely being able to stop me?" Scout shot back.

Pietro's jaw opened but nothing came out, and Fred, Toad, and John all burst into laughter. Pietro gave a pleading look to his sister, who gave a small smile and a light pat on the shoulder.

Leaving their dishes in the sink, Scout led Magneto outside to show him the clearing. She sat and stretched across the grass. "I woke up lying down like this, with these clothes on my back," she explained.

Magneto glanced around then held out his arms. Scout felt a tugging at her chest, and her necklace was floating outward. Magneto paused at that and motioned for her to stand closer to him. After she did, he resumed scanning the area for metallic materials, this time without affecting her as much. The clearing seemed to tremble a bit, but nothing out of the ordinary revealed itself.

"Is there anything else you woke up with?" Magneto asked her.

"Eskrima sticks with the number 122,112 carved on them," Scout answered. "I also found a baseball when I searched through here, but I think it might be Toad's."

They hurried back inside before mosquitoes made a meal out of Magneto and Scout showed him the Eskrima sticks. "These seem rather dense for wood," he observed. He set the sticks on the floor and attempted to use his powers to pick them up, but nothing happened. His picked them up and brushed his fingers over the numbers. "I'll see what I can find from this number."

"What? You don't have to-"

"It may be important to the future safety of mutants," Magneto insisted. "Besides, what if it helps you remember who you are?"

Considering that she was tagged "like an animal" and possibly dangerous, Scout wasn't sure if she wanted to remember anymore, and all she could do was smile like always at Magneto. He patted her shoulder and said, "You are a valuable addition to the Brotherhood. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

Magneto stepped out of her room, and Scout shut the door. Her body felt exhausted, but now her mind was restless with conflict. If she got her memories back, she could go home, but what if the boarding house was the better home? What kind of home tagged and tracked her? She wasn't even sure if it was a tracker, but she couldn't know for sure unless she could remember the password!

She felt trapped, and even with the Brotherhood just one floor below, she felt alone.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at her window.

* * *

Hector's miasma batted away mosquitoes and clung to the side of the house. If the Brotherhood didn't even have lasers blocking the entrance, no wonder the X-Men ran roughshod over them.

Scout stared through the window at him, and in response he smiled and gave a small wave of his hand. The moment she opened the window, he asked, "May I come in?"

The buzzing insects outside were all Scout needed. She quickly pulled Hector into her room. As his miasma slipped underneath his clothes, she slammed the window shut.

"Scout?" Lance called from below. "Is something wrong? I heard a slam."

Using his miasma so he wouldn't make noisy footsteps, Hector ran and dove behind Scout's bed. He needn't have worried, as Scout replied, "Nothing's wrong. Bugs."

"All right."

Scout waited for footsteps going up the stairs and towards her room, but when nothing happened she sat down next to Hector. "I wasn't expecting you," she said.

Hector stared straight ahead, his heart thumping. He had nothing to fear.

"Hector?"

Lance was not his enemy now. In fact, Lance seemed to like him.

A hand rested on Hector's face and he jumped.

"What's wrong?" asked Scout, scanning his face.

Hector pushed her hand away and shook his head. "Just a bit nervous about Lance finding me here, that's all," he explained, turning to face her but keeping his head low. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Scout laughed quietly. "How did you get out of the mansion?" she whispered.

"I told Ms. Munroe I was taking a walk after dinner," Hector said. "I just have to be back before midnight curfew." He leaned in closer to her. "I saw you and Magneto in the woods. What's all that about?"

Scout grit her teeth. "It's... it's complicated."

"Try me," Hector dared. When Scout hesitated, he softened his voice. "I'd really like to help you."

So Scout told him. She told him all about how she woke up, how nice the Brotherhood was, her Eskrima sticks, and when she showed him her pendant and the screen, her voice began to choke up and she had to pause for a deep breath. She wouldn't dare cry in front of him, not when his eyes were so focused on her, and her perpetual smile remained on as she summarized her fears, "As far as I can tell, I might be a dangerous criminal or some sort of freak experiment that's being tracked-"

His hands were on her shoulders as he made sure she looked him in the eye. "Scout, you're not a freak."

Scout's smile twitched. "You don't know that. Nobody knows that," she shook her head. "And I'm not sure if I want to know."

Hector brought one hand to her chin and lifted her face back towards his. "Scout, believe me," he said in low tones, "I've been around the worst people. Even when their minds are messed with, there are signs. I can tell. It's not something that's easily erased. You, you are a good person."

"You..." Scout felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, and her smile suddenly became less strained. "You're sure?"

Hector nodded and the hand on her chin went to his chest. "I will do what I can at the mansion to help you," he swore.

"Thank you." Scout beamed, and then began to shake with relief. Her mind was now settled, but she suddenly didn't feel so down. When Hector held his arms a bit open, she gratefully returned with an embrace.

She had no idea how long they stayed like that, but the miasma just below the surface of his skin soothed her. Her eyelids fell, and the last thing she knew before she dozed off was his chin brushing her forehead and a pressure on her hair.

* * *

Hector gently set Scout on her bed, removing her jacket and socks and tucking her in. Listening for footsteps, he went to the window. Once he was sure nobody was outside, he opened the window and exited. After shutting it quietly behind him, he walked briskly back towards Xavier's, marveling at how smoothly that meeting had gone. Being friends with Scout would be so easy. His battered conscience told him that he had to help her at the mansion, and Hector would comply. Sort of.

As he came through the front doors, Renee was there waiting for him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" she seethed.

"Not past curfew since the gates weren't locked," Hector said without looking at her. "You should've gone walking with me. It's a great stress reliever." He stretched dramatically with a yawn just to annoy her.

"Where'd you go?" she asked.

"Out." It was an honest answer, and Hector's quick exit up the stairs left no room for further conversation.

That night, as he settled down to sleep, Hector wondered what he would do the next time he saw Scout. If he left the mansion at night too often, it would seem suspicious. Better to pick random times that Scout wasn't working to see her. He smiled as he planned it all out, but a guilty feeling kept trying to overtake him. He ruthlessly repressed it. _I deserve a little happiness after what I've been through_.

Everything would be as it should be, so long as Scout did not regain her memory.


End file.
